


And above everything, she was radiant

by bulletsandroses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Ginny is too pure, Love Confessions, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, also a lot of fluff, angst lots of angst, draco has feelings, too many to be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletsandroses/pseuds/bulletsandroses
Summary: “I don’t hate you”“I don’t know why” he replied. She shrugged and held his hand tightly.“Me neither. And I would like to hate you because that would make it easier to forget. But I don’t hate you, not anymore, I guess”





	1. I stand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks everyone for your kudos on my other work! So this is a little more angsty and it's a bit longer than any other fanfic I've ever written, but I will assure you it will only have two chapters and the second one is already written! So I'll be uploading it as soon as possible <3

Being half-way through her mid-term exams, Hermione Granger thought she was dealing greatly with her stress. McGonagall had decided to let all 7th years repeat their lost course. Of course Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts. With McGonagall as head teacher, she was expected not only to succeed and maintain her title as the best and brightest witch of her age, but also to forget about her glory as part of the Golden Trio who had defeated Voldemort.

She looked back to her table and that big and heavy medal. Order of Merlin, first class. Basically for not letting the Chosen One die in the woods. If it weren’t for her, she remembered Kingsley telling her, he would have been dead within a week of being outside Hogwarts. She wanted to remark that he would already be dead by the end of their 1st year, but Hermione wasn’t good at praising herself.

They all knew, though.

As well as they all knew she was going to have the highest mark ever recorded on her NEWTs, but that didn’t stop her from biting her nails and sleeping less than 5 hours a night. It was still November, but hell, Hermione had to be outstanding if she wanted a chance of getting into the Ministry. And she dreamed of it.

“Hey, you okay?” she heard a voice behind her. She turned around, with her muggle pencil sharpener in her fist. She breathed again when she saw the familiar face of Neville Longbotton look at her, worried.

“Neville” she murmured, calming herself. “Yeah, just revising” she pointed at the pile of books on her desk. To be honest, they hadn’t been opened in the whole day. Neville took a chair and sat next to her, his hand on her thigh. He looked at her through his long fringe and Hermione counted the little scars on his face.

“I’m worried” he admitted. Hermione frowned. Everything was fine, they were all back to the school that had given them so much, people looked at them in awe and admiration. Her, Neville, Luna, Ginny and Ron. They didn’t need much more. Hermione didn’t need much more to be completely happy. She frowned again.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. Neville shook his head and shrugged.

“I… The trials. They’ve begun. This morning. And I just feel so sick when I think of them being free and all that. They don’t get to be free. Not after what they’ve done” Neville murmured; his head closer to Hermione’s. She smiled and took his hand.

“I know. I’m sorry, I completely forgot about them. They won’t get out, Neville. There’s no way they’re going to be forgiven”

“We were listening to them and I just couldn’t”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Neville.”

“What if we are just like them?” Neville then asked. Hermione bit her lip. Of course she had thought about it. They were war heroes, but only because they had won. They were children and they had grown up so much in that war she didn’t think they would go back to being the same students worried about not handing in their assignments in time.

“We are not” she said, instead. “We are good, we’ve done well to the magic world and we now have to focus on what we are supposed to do: Study and succeed and not let anyone think we achieved such good jobs because of our labour to peace” she joked.

Neville smiled and got up.

“That will be hard, I’m afraid” he replied. “How the hell do you… focus? What about the nightmares? How do you cope so well with the memories?”

 _I don’t, I wake up screaming every night. The scars on my forearm hurt like they’ve never hurt before, the pain in my legs after the_ Cruciatus _curse is unbearable and every time I am asked how I was so brave I feel sick because children don’t know the awful things I’ve done and I should be punished for that._

“We are safe now” she whispered. “We haven’t had the opportunity to be normal teenagers and now we get one so we need to take advantage of it”

“It’s not fair” he murmured. Hermione took his fringe away from his eyes.

“I know, I know, but we must try. For all of the students that won’t be able. For all of the students that are too afraid to go to Hogsmeade alone, for all of the _children_ who grew up too fast and now will deal with nightmares for the rest of their life” she said, her eyes tearing up. Hermione blinked twice. “For them, because we are their examples, their role models. For them, we must continue”

“You should really apply for Minister” Neville answered, and she blushed.

“Only if I get straight O’s” she smiled back, leaning back on her back. Neville got up and went to the door.

“Malfoy’s trial is in 10 minutes. We are listening to it downstairs” he added. “If you want to come…”

“Father?” she breathed. She already knew her answer. There’s no way Neville would ask her to come and listen to Lucius’ trial. It was obvious that he was going straight to Azkaban, no arguments permitted. She felt a shiver through her spine as Neville replied:

“Son. Come, it will be good to have a bit of fresh air. Ron brought butterbeer. Just the four of us, Luna is at the hospital wing. Again” he added. Hermione shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’ll just stay here…” she doubted. Neville raised an eyebrow and offered her a hand when she got up of the chair. She bit her tongue in order not to scream while the already familiar pain went through her bones. It was okay, she reminded herself every second. It will get better.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Neville asked, his voice worried. She nodded and took her wand from the top desk of her dormitory. She had stayed at her shared room in the Gryffindor Common Room. Surprisingly, she had not been asked to be Head Girl and Hermione was really pleased with it. She didn’t need more responsibilities. So she’d just asked for the room for herself. And so it had been done.

“Don’t worry, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, I’m not as good as I was at memorizing” she teased, and Neville snorted.

“There won’t be a day when you aren’t the best at everything, Hermione”. He was probably right. She just wished she wasn’t the best at lying, either, and someone actually could notice how wrecked she was inside.

 

The Common Room was empty at that time, every student revising for their exams. Hermione took a couch far from the rest of them, who were sitting in a circle, and just covered herself with a soft blanket she had taken from her muggle home, last year, before running away. She just snuggled there, while she listened to the eternal arguments between the Weasley siblings.

“I swear on my mother, Ginevra Weasley, if you say so again…”. Hermione smiled at the sight of the two Weasley brothers arguing, one in front of the other. Ginny had that face of being two seconds away from hexing Ron, and him… He had lost it.

“I’m serious! I don’t really care what you think about this, Ronald, but you and I know that he’s not a Death Eater. He’s good now and he’s really sorry and I’m pretty sure you’d like an opportunity if you were in his situation!” she yelled. Ron kicked one side of her own couch and Ginny got up.

“I’m deadly serious too. It’s Zabini! I don’t even know why he’s come back, why he’s not locked in…”  
“He didn’t even take the mark! It was only Malfoy who did, and he’s being tried for it! Blaise did nothing wrong, and I think…”

The ginger girl wasn’t nearly as tall as her brother, but her fierceness made up for it. Ron stood still and Hermione just felt sorry for them. She didn’t really know what the argument was about, but it looked pretty serious, even though the siblings had found it hard to have a normal conversation with each other since the Battle.

“Well I don’t give a fuck what you think. You’d better stay away from him…”

“Or what? You’ll ignore me for the rest of the course, as you’re already ignoring mum?” she snapped, and Hermione found herself getting up and standing between the two of them, at the same time that Neville opened the door with one foot, carrying four butterbeers in his hands.

“Don’t get started again” Neville said, rolling his eyes. They decided to ignore him, and also Hermione’s efforts to make herself seen, just challenging each other with a look.

“You know it hasn’t been my fault that I wasn’t at home this summer” Ron murmured. Ginny snorted.

“You liar, it’s completely your fault. She’s missed you so much, Merlin, and you just kept appearing on every journal, giving interviews about how great it was to be the hero, all of this while your family was completely devastated”. Ginny had so much anger in her voice Hermione trembled. She knew they had opened that dark box and they were going to have that conversation.

“It’s not fair…” Ron started, but Ginny wasn’t going to shut up. Hermione saw tears on her eyes and bit her lip, her fists against her hips. She didn’t think it was a good idea to interrupt them, but it was not the right place to argue and it was definitely the worst time to do it, while Malfoy was being tried. And she wanted to listen to it.

“It’s not fair that you took your five minutes of fame and forgot about us”

“I’m not letting you talk to me like that, Ginny!”

“Well then go away if you don’t want to listen to the truth! I don’t even know why you’ve come back to Hogwarts, to be honest” she snapped. Ron took a step back.

“I AM AS HURT AS YOU ARE, YOU KNOW?!”

“Well it doesn’t look like it!!” Ginny replied, already crying. Ron punched the wall behind him and swore under his breath.

“Maybe I haven’t had time! I’m a fucking war hero, yes, but I didn’t want to!”. Ginny laughed, dry, and crossed her arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry the Ministry obliged you to go on tour during a month” she said, sarcastic as she always was, and Hermione stood still. “I’m sorry it took you too much time to apparate home on birthdays, I forgot how busy you were, oh great Ronald”.

“Fuck your irony, Ginny. Fuck it”

“Mum needed you! She needed all of us and we needed each other because, even though you don’t get it yet, we are a family!! We are a fucking family and we were seven children and all of a sudden we were just six, you know?! And it looked like we were five and I didn’t even know if mum cried because of Fred or because of you missing!”

“Don’t even dare mention Fred…”

“He’s dead, Ron! He’s dead and George is at St. Mungo on treatment, and mum has depression and we all have traumas but we didn’t give up on each other! Even Harry and Hermione came to the funeral! You were the only one missing there and, let’s be clear; I cried for you, I needed you too! I needed you at Hogwarts, but the only thing you’ve done this past two months has been go to Hogsmeade and get drunk on firewhiskey and cry for Hermione’s lost love!”

“Ginny” Hermione whispered. She shook her head.

“I fucking needed you, Ronald. We needed you and right now I put up with you company, but you don’t get to tell me who I should approach or not. Because you’re the first one who did it awfully wrong and you don’t even see your mistakes! You let us down.”

“Ginny…” Hermione repeated. Ron had his mouth opened, unable to say a word. Ginny just swore and turned her back on them, closing the door of the Common Room with a slam.

“Well that was awkward” Neville mentioned, and Hermione didn’t know what to do. She took Ron’s hands and took him to the sofa. Neville sat up next to them, in silence, as Hermione curled up against Ron’s arm, watching the fire.

“She’s right, isn’t she?” Ron muttered. Hermione sighed and took the small radio in her hands, not answering to that question. “Hermione”. She tilted her head, her throat dry.

“You can still fix it” she whispered, while trying to turn the radio on. “You haven’t lost Harry, you haven’t lost me”

“I lost you too” he told her. Hermione turned her face to him, her eyebrow raised.

“You haven’t lost me _as a friend._ I’m always going to be there. But you can still fix it with your family. You’d better do it, before it’s too late” she added. Neville nodded, agreeing with her, and Ron swore again.

“It’s just all these trials… them getting into Azkaban makes me want to go mad. They deserve death; Ginny thinks the same about it. But Zabini being here, while his parents are probably going to be locked in for life… Merlin’s pants, I just want to choke him in his sleep” he said, his voice low but furious.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have the fault of being a Zabini. Neither does Malfoy, by the way” Neville replied, drinking his own butterbeer. Hermione nodded without wanting to.

“Can we just listen to the trial, and forget about this?” she whispered. “Malfoy might not have the chance to explain. He might actually be going to Azkaban”

“He did take the Mark” Ronald pointed out, and Hermione felt too tired to argue with him. She just felt so tired, all the time. Tired of pretending everything was fine, tired of listening to Ginny cry at night and tired of being called at five am in the morning in order to go and bring a sleepy and drunk Ron to his room. Tired of Luna being absent, tired of Neville trying to keep them together even though it was impossible. Tired of missing Harry, who was having private auror training.

She was just tired.

 

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy did not believe in miracles. He used to believe in superiority, ancestry and social discrimination. Right at that moment, chained to a chair in the middle of a courtroom filled with people that had had a voice in deciding whether he should have a future or not, he kept on thinking miracles didn’t exist.

But the inquisitor had been clear, an old woman with grey hair. He was free to go. He didn’t even need to wait to the chamber’s decision because it had been clear that he was free. Him and his mother were free, no charges at all, no home confinement. No wands taken away, no Dementor Kiss. He was 18 years old and he had been a second away from being locked in for life. But he was free to go and he couldn’t be more surprised.

“Draco. Draco!” He turned around to the voice and found a nicer version of his aunt Bella. She was holding his mother’s hands while Narcissa Malfoy cried softly on her sister’s shoulder. Andromeda opened her arms to him and he just lifted his hands to show everyone that he was still chained.

And all of a sudden the chains were gone and he was _free_. Legally, at least, he was fucking free and he didn’t know how to react. It wasn’t only the fact that he was free what shocked him. It was, above all, the fact that Harry Potter, the Chosen One, had appeared in the middle of his trial to defend him. Him, the Death Eater.

Him, the boy who had mocked him, bullied him and done everything in his hand to hurt him.

And thanks to Potter’s speech, he was now free. Draco touched his wrist, unable to believe that there were no marks on them, that there were no conditions. Apart from, of course, the promise to finish his studies. Without exceptional NEWTs, he wouldn’t be able to work anywhere. His father’s influence was gone.

“Aren’t you happy?” his mother hugged him tightly, her voice trembling, and he just held her as she calmed down. “Oh, my sweet boy, you’re free…”

“I didn’t expect it, that’s all” Draco muttered, looking around at the crowd that seemed unpleasant with the verdict. They wanted to watch him rot in Azkaban. Draco admitted that he wanted to be punished, too. He didn’t know why the hell he wasn’t on his way to prison. His aunt put a soft hand on his shoulder and nodded.

“You deserve it, you’ve been a good one” she said, her voice calm. Draco shrugged and looked around, his eyes searching the Potter boy. He didn’t find it.

“Oh, there’s so much to do” he heard his mother complain “It’s already mid-November, Merlin, Draco, you’re going to fall behind if you don’t catch up…” she seemed to be talking to herself, so Draco didn’t bother replying.

Harry Potter had saved him and he was being sent to Hogwarts. _Great._

* * *

 

 

“You really are mad” Hermione guessed, sitting next to Ron while he just wrote something on his paper, his calligraphy always messy and almost impossible to understand. Ron sighed, looked straight to her eyes as if he was about to say something, but shook his head and kept writing. For what she could read, he really had no idea about how to write an essay for Transfiguration.

“There’s no need to ignore me” she sighed, opening her own books. It had been two weeks since the trials and still, everything she could hear students whispering about was the fact Malfoy had to come back. To be honest, she had thought about it too. He was going to be in Hell. She nodded and opened her book-bag, looking for blank paper and looked back at him, his fringe over his eyes. She sighed again. “Are you kidding me, Ronald? Be a man and at least don’t make me mad” she whispered.

A couple of students, probably 2nd years, looked back at them and opened their mouth in a  perfect O, kicking their friends’ legs until the whole table was looking at both of them. Hermione rolled her eyes, ready for the comments.

“What the hell are you looking at?” Ron snapped, and they all went back to put their noses in their own books. Ron muttered something Hermione couldn’t hear and continued on his essay.

“Okay, whatever. I’m the only one who talks to you at the moment, you know” she commented, opening her own Potions book.

She spent at least ten minutes immerse in her studying when she heard Ron talking and she looked up to him, who was watching her write.

“What?” she asked raising an eyebrow. He bit his lip and didn’t say anything, making Hermione nervous. “Okay, this is ridiculous. _Ronald,_ what the hell is going on with you? Since the trials you have…”

“Malfoy is coming back” Ron muttered. She nodded. “He’s coming back and I shouldn’t be here because I won’t stand looking at him. Not after what he did. What he did to _you_ ” he added, quickly.

“Then I should be the one angry. And I’m fine. He’s been tried, Ron. They don’t have any reasons to hold him back, to send him to Azkaban” she said, slowly. Ron swore under his breath and hit the table with his fist.

“Maybe the fact he is the only Death Eater they’re letting go. As long as he has that Mark, he is dangerous and I can’t… I won’t be able to be civil”

“Well, he did it for his family and we’ve already discussed this hundreds of times. You would have done the same thing, Ron” she reminded him and he frowned.

“I know he didn’t have a choice. But, you and I know he was condemned since the moment he set a foot in that courtroom. If it weren’t for Harry… How could he?”

“His mother saved him, Ronald! It was the right thing to do…”she sighed, exasperated. It really was the hundredth time they’d discussed it and, still, Ron didn’t seem to understand that Malfoy coming back might lead to a union between the redeemed and the winners. And that was what really lacked at Hogwarts. Unity.

“I don’t care. I can’t forgive. I can’t, not yet”

“You should. For us. For you. You’re not okay and Ginny not talking to you is the point of no return. You either begin to socialize and forgive or you will be alone. I’m not sitting here forever” she murmured. And with that said, she got up and left.

 

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy arrived to Hogwarts one week before the Christmas Break, when the term exams were already finished and corrected and Hermione’s marks couldn’t get better. It was a cold morning; she didn’t remember having been so cold in her life. When she went to the Great Hall to have breakfast before class, she found it packed.

Whenever she looked, students were ecstatic, anxious. She didn’t understand it until she sat next to Neville and Luna, who were casually holding hands, oblivious to the noise and the murmurs. Hermione found herself uncomfortable, as if a bomb was about to explode. She didn’t find Ron anywhere and it made her sigh, but she caught Ginny talking with Zabini, laughing next to him.

On the other side of the table, there was Pansy Parkinson, who was really amused with what Ginny had just said. Hermione shrugged. It might be easy for her, but she found it hard to be with them. Not yet.

“So what’s going on?” she asked to the air as she took a couple of apples and hid them in her bag, before taking some pineapple juice and slowly bite a toast. Neville opened his eyes and looked at her, a strange look on his face. “What?” she snapped.

“It’s Malfoy!” Luna answered, from behind him. “He’s coming back after lunch. Have you seen the Quidditch field yet? It’s full of snow”

“Oh, god” she gasped. It had been weeks since his trial, she suddenly remembered. That’s why the whole school was on its nerves. She looked for Ron without wanting to. She was too afraid of him running into Malfoy. She didn’t even know how she would react. She hadn’t seen him since May 2nd.

“Don’t worry, McGonagall won’t let anyone see him before the end of the week. It’s too soon” Neville calmed her. She shook her head and got up, not even touching her breakfast.

“I have to go” she muttered and ran to Ginny, who looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey” she just said, moving her amazingly shiny hair, before going back to her interesting conversation with Parkinson and Zabini about her last Quidditch training and how _awful_ the team had been to her, as if it was her fault she was too focused on winning.

“We need to talk. I have to find Ron” Hermione murmured. Zabini snorted and Hermione looked at him, her eyes furious. “What?” she snapped.

“The Weasel has been gone for hours, Granger” he answered, smiling. Ginny rolled her eyes and Parkinson nodded.

“’Saw him leaving for Hogsmeade before midnight yesterday night” Parkinson added. The Slytherins shared a look and just arched their brows at her, suddenly intimidating her. They were painfully good-looking, Hermione noticed. Nothing to do with Ginny’s natural aura that made her beautiful and fierce and loveable. They looked so good they could have you in their hands and then kill you.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me?” Ginny snorted. “What about him, ‘Mione?”

“Haven’t you heard? Malfoy is coming. Today” she said. Zabini rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I thought you were going to say something interesting for once, Granger. Of course we know. If you haven’t noticed, we were his friends” he added. Parkinson nodded, looking at the door with a distracted face. Ginny just looked at Hermione.

“Your brother is not the best at being civil. And with Malfoy back, I don’t want him to get into trouble”

“Weasley or Draco? I would say you’d be pleased to see the Weasel punch him in the face…” interrupted Zabini. Hermione looked at him, now furious. How dare he?

“Both”

“Oh, I don’t know. Apparently everybody at this school hates him. Why wouldn’t you?” Zabini replied, and Hermione couldn’t stand it anymore. She got up and took her bag.

“I don’t have anything against him, and fuck you Zabini for even insinuating that. I’ll see you later, Ginny, when I find the idiot of your brother”

“Maybe paralyze him so that he won’t show how brainless he is when he sees Malfoy at dinner” Ginny replied as a goodbye, not looking away from her bowl of cereals. Hermione just snorted and left. She was late for class and Ron would probably be asleep at a pub, as usual. She just couldn’t deal with the Weasley siblings. They were both infuriating and they took all of her patience away.

Class was not good, either. She couldn’t focus, not with Ron away and Malfoy about to appear at any moment. But no one seemed to notice it. No one knew that Ron used to pass out every night after drinking too much at Hogsmeade, thanks to McGonagall’s permission to leave whenever they wanted to. No one knew that Ron’s hate was consuming him, that it was pushing him away from his family, from everybody. No one but her. She was the only one who noticed, and the only one who knew how capable Ron was of hexing Malfoy as he had tried to hex Zabini a week earlier, when he saw the Slytherin talk to Ginny at the end of class.

Ron had changed, and so had she. But she was okay, all was well with her. _Liar._

She stormed out of her last class and into her bedroom, quickly changing her uniform into some warm clothes. Life was better at Hogwarts; Hermione reminded herself when she put her gloves on and a pair of warm boots before running into Hogsmeade as she had now got used to.

She ran into Ginny on her way out, who looked at her from head to toes and rolled her eyes.

“Please tell me you’re not chasing my idiot brother _again_ ”

“Well, someone has to” she just replied. Ginny made a face and took her hand, taking air. Hermione predicted a long speech about how Ginny’s choice of not speaking to Ron was the right thing to do.

“If he does something to Malfoy I might hex him. I don’t want to be Saint Ginevra but I really think they deserve a chance. Harry’s on my side, by the way. And no, I won’t forget about you or Neville or my friends, but the two have no one here. They’re the only Slytherins who have come back and only because the Ministry has made them. Everything applies to Malfoy, too. I might not like him but I really hope he’s changed. I know he has. ” Ginny started to say. Hermione interrupted her before she could continue with her speech.

“Ginny, I also think like you…”

“No, you don’t. You’re holding back. You don’t sit with them because they remind you of their parents. And you won’t talk to Malfoy because he reminds you of his aunt”

“Well I was fucking tortured at his home! But I’m trying! I swear, I’m trying to forgive”

“Why the hell is it so hard? You, my brother… and why do you assume you must take care of him? You know, you’re not his girlfriend, nor his mother”

“I just can’t let your brother alone because he has a problem with alcohol and apparently I’m the only one who cares” she snapped back. Ginny raised her brows.

“Of course I know of his excursions to the pub, I’m not stupid. If he doesn’t want to change, he won’t. I have given up. You should, too” she told her, and Hermione felt a sad feeling in her chest when she realized Ginny really meant it. She had really given up on his brother.

“I… I’ll see you later, Gin” she muttered before going past her and running down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Draco was at Hogsmeade. He couldn’t fucking believe it. He breathed the chill air of that December morning and hell, Draco felt better than he’d felt in ages. He walked with no real destination, just the feeling of freedom inside his chest. It felt great. He kicked a mountain of snow and just smiled. And, for a moment, he didn’t care about what was about to happen when he arrived in Hogwarts. He didn’t think of his friends, of their reactions, of everyone’s reactions when they saw him.

He just enjoyed the snow like he’d never had. He was alone, his luggage already on its way to the castle. However, Draco needed a couple of minutes for himself. He wandered the streets of the magical town and he realized no one was looking at him in a weird way. Maybe they didn’t know who he was, probably not. But no one was staring. Merlin, that was awesome, he thought to himself.

He took a couple of steps, looking back at the town, when he felt a pain in his shoulder and looked at it, specifically at the body that had literally crashed against him.

“Sorry” he mumbled, out of instinct, before moving back. He didn’t know if he was more surprised because of the fact that the girl (he supposed he was a girl after looking at the height difference) was crying or because the girl was Granger. She looked up and he could see her face go pale as she opened her mouth.

“Malfoy” she muttered, shocked. She quickly wiped her tears with her hand and bit her bottom lip. Merlin, Draco thought, what an inconvenient encounter. She looked prettier than ever, if that girl had ever looked bad. She had, to be honest. Those awful teeth on first year made him cringe. But her look was as bright as always, her hair under a nice hat and her tiny nose red and frozen. However, she was looking straight up to him, an eyebrow raised, as if she was expecting him to say something. He couldn’t.

“Well. It’s nice to see you” she said, shrugging and forcing a smile. Was it? Or was she feeling as awkward as him? She stepped aside and waved her hand before going into town. She was leaving, so Draco did the only thing he thought of.

“Granger!” he called. Her name sounded like a pledge of peace. She turned back and looked at him, confused, as he caught up to her, his hands inside the pockets of his coat. “I was wondering… You… you’re the first person I’ve seen since… I’m back”

“I suppose” she answered, kindly. “Everyone is talking about your arrival”

“Pretty excited, aren’t they?” he joked. She knew Draco was kidding. Of course he was. There was no way his arrival pleased anyone at the school.

“I suppose it will get better” she just said. He nodded, not knowing if she was saying it to be nice or because she really believed it. Draco was too amazed by her to look away, he realized. Not how she looked, but how she was. She seemed changed. Older, maybe. Mature.

“Anyway. Would you…?”

“I really have to go, Malfoy” she whispered, walking backwards. “There’s… there’s this thing I need to take care of”

“Are we cool?” he asked, and he immediately regretted his words. Of course they were not cool. She was the saviour and he was the Death Eater. It wasn’t going to end well, to pretend to be friends with her. She was tortured at his fucking living room; it was obvious that they were not cool.

“Yeah, we are cool” she said, though. She smiled and it looked true, so he took it and smiled back.

“I… I really thought we could talk. Whenever it’s okay with you” he asked, and she nodded.

“Sure. See you at Hogwarts” she replied, and she just disappear in the streets. So Draco took a couple of minutes to analyze what had happened. The person she wanted to see the most, had appeared in front of him and he had been so fucking coward to tell her a simple _Sorry._ Maybe it wasn’t the proper time, in the middle of the snow, but he should have said something nicer, something to show that he had changed as well.

He was changed and he wanted to show everyone, but he really wanted to make the brightest witch of her age understand it, among all people.

He didn’t know what to expect, but he just followed her, a hundred metres behind. He carefully looked at her turning right on a tiny street that led to a pub.

“Really, Granger? It’s lunchtime” he murmured.

Then, he saw how she hesitated before entering, and he was surprised when she rested against the wall in front of the pub, pulled a packet of muggle cigarettes from her pocket and lit one up, taking it to her lips.

“What the…” Granger, smoking? That was one thing to see. He blinked a couple of times. However, his vision was as perfect as it had always been. She was there, the cigarette in between her fingers, her face a bit more relaxed whenever she exhaled the smoke. Draco hid again behind the wall. What was Granger doing there? And why was he following her as if he was her secret admirer? Draco shook her head before daring to spy on her again. But she was already gone, maybe inside the pub, and the only thing left were her footsteps and that smell to cinnamon and ashes.

Draco turned around to continue on his way back to Hogwarts when he heard a door. Oh, fuck. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to be there. But he couldn’t look away from his hidden place as he observed Granger get out of the pub, her worried look again on her face, dragging a very intoxicated Ronald Weasley onto the snow.

“Again, Ron? Again?” Draco heard her cry, as the Weasley swore. She casted a warming spell for both her and Weasley, but even Draco felt it. That witch, as powerful as she’d always been.

“Fuck, off, ‘Mione”

“I’m not your nanny! I’m not your mother! I shouldn’t be the one taking care of you!” she snapped, pulling him up and holding him by the waist. It was funny to watch, Draco admitted. The Weasel was a terrible wizard but, honestly, he could be an amazing player. He was tallest than him, his long arms around Granger’s shoulders. She couldn’t be more than 5 feet tall.

“Then don’t act like one” Weasley replied. She then hit him, hard, in the chest, and Weasley fell back on his butt.

“Well I can’t! I still _love_ you, you idiot! I can’t let you ruin your life like this!”

“Help me here!” Ron yelled. He was really drunk, Draco noticed. Granger sobbed a couple of times, her back on Draco, so he couldn’t see her face. When she spoke again, her voice made him shiver.

“Malfoy is back” she then said. “And I know you want to do something and you think you’ll have our support because you believe everyone hates him as much as you do” she began. Weasley swore again.

“If he dares to even get near us…”

“You won’t do anything. Ginny will hex you. I will hex you if it’s necessary” Granger replied, and her tone didn’t admit an answer. “And you’ll go to Madam Pomfrey and get treatment because I’m done with you; I’m done dealing with your hangovers and your hate. Tomorrow you will go to the hospital wing”

And then, surprisingly, Weasley laughed. It was a deep laugh, as if he found her threatens extremely funny. Draco frowned. _Had she just defended him?_

“What’s so funny, Ronald? And get the hell up, for God’s sake! We are late for lunch”

“Are you really telling me to fix my life? You hypocrite witch! Do you think I don’t know that you wake up screaming? I can hear you from my room! I hear you crying and I hear you muttering healing spells after punching too hard on the walls. I see you before and after those muggle things that are so bad for your health and I see you go to Madam Pomfrey. You always come back with pills, muggle pills to calm you down. I know your legs aren’t the same and the only reason you’re walking away from me right now is because of your spells”

“What…?”

“You’re as wrecked as I am but you don’t want to admit it! You want to fix everyone and, guess what, you can’t!” he snapped, still sitting on the snow. She then turned around and began walking, past Draco’s hidden place. He could see her then, her face red and her eyes watery.

“Fuck you, Ronald!” she cried. She apparated with a _Crack,_ leaving Draco and Ronald alone on the street. Draco breathed heavily, interiorizing the words he had just heard. It made him feel completely responsible for Granger’s condition. He didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t need the Weasel to say it. Not him, out of all the people. He didn’t need to know that Granger was not dealing with the memories the way she should.

Fuck, he didn’t want to feel sorry for Weasley, either. He had been at the funeral, he remembered the pain that he could breathe from his spot, next to a tree, far away from everyone. Only Mrs. Weasley and her daughter had seen him, but they had said nothing. It was better that way.

He heard Weasley mutter some not very nice words against Granger and he hesitated before going out of her place. Was it worth it, to help him out? Should he be doing it? He might receive a curse if he got closer enough to Weasley, but judging from Weasley’s position on the snow and the awful smell to muggle Brandy, Draco was convinced he couldn’t remember any of that when he woke up next morning.

 So he went to him and took one of Weasley’s arms, putting it around his shoulders and holding it, while Draco struggled with holding his waist as well. Weasley muttered something and then he opened his eyes in shock when he found out who was lifting him.

“What the hell?!”

“Shut up, Weasel, your breath stinks” he snapped, before beginning to walk on the path. Weasley was really heavy, Draco noticed, and his continuous swearing didn’t help.

“Malfoy, I can’t find my wand but if I did…”

“You would hex the fuck out of me. You’ve said that already twice, Weasley.” he groaned, his back hurting from the weight of the red-haired on it.

“Malfoy, I…”

“Just shut the fuck up, Weasley” he interrupted him before he could make another stupid comment. Being half-way on the path to Hogwarts, Draco realized he did not want to be seen, he did not want anyone to see him for the first time since May like that. Carrying a drunk-as-Hell Weasley to his Common Room.

“Weasley, for fuck’s sake, sober up” he murmured. Weasley looked at him, his eyes narrowed, before turning pale and getting off Draco’s embrace to puke on one side of the path. Draco swallowed and tried not to look at the image. “Please Obliviate me after this” he muttered, but Weasley had heard him as he was cleaning himself up with his scarf.

“Fuck you for even joking about that” Weasley snapped, and Draco took his wand out, to which Weasley swore again, looking for his own. Draco grabbed his head and muttered a spell, before letting him go and fall on the ground.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled, scared to death. Draco moved his head and just kept on walking, Weasley quickly following him.

“It’s a sober-up spell, Weasel. It really helps, if only you could pay attention in class and learn how to cast it” he explained before Weasley could attack him. “Not that you’re a great wizard, let’s be honest…”

“Why?”

“Because you were drunk and you threw up a feet away from my designer shoes”

“You’ve helped me” Weasley muttered. Draco shrugged and didn’t look back at him, but he felt the boy’s presence behind him.

“I didn’t do it for you, let’s have it clear. You don’t owe me anything, I don’t owe you anything. We are good”

“I still hate you”

“And I still think you’re messed up” Draco replied. He looked both sides before entering through the big door of the castle. He’d missed it, not that he was going to admit it anytime soon, but he had missed Hogwarts. He kind of felt safe in there. He closed his eyes for a moment before daring to enter, and what he saw shocked him.

It was packed. Like, completely packed. He didn’t even know there were so many students at the school. Apparently everyone in the castle knew he was arriving that day. Even the ghosts had decided to make an appearance, all of them looking at him with suspicious eyes. And Draco’s heart fell to his feet, his mood sinking again in the darkness. He didn’t want to be stared. For fuck’s sake, didn’t they have anything better to do?

 _Better than the arrival of a Death Eater? Not likely._ Draco just stood there, at the entrance, with Weasley behind him, who happened to be as mute as he was. He felt all the eyes on him. All the pain, the rage, the guilt. It was that moment when he found out being sent back to Hogwarts might have been the worst punishment.

Weasley grumbled something about all of them being a pack of assholes but Draco was terrified, looking for someone he knew. And then the impossible happened, he felt a soft hand take his and pull him out of the circle that had been created around the two boys.

So he just followed, and felt so many murmurs around him he couldn’t really understand anything. He took that hand as if it was oxygen and didn’t hesitate in following. However, he suddenly felt an immense pain in his cheek and he raised his hand to touch it. Had someone really punched him? Fuck, that was going to leave a mark, for sure. Draco looked back to see who was the bastard who had hit him, but the faces were blurry and he felt dizzy. Draco just closed his eyes and let himself go, guided by that hand that was pulling him out of the chaos.

When they got to the end of some random stairs, he opened his eyes. He didn’t realize he was shaking and he hadn’t realized it was Granger who had took him out of the crowd. Draco didn’t know why, but he wasn’t surprised at all. She smiled at him, as if she were apologizing. _I should be the one apologizing._ Next to her there was the Weaslette and Draco frowned at her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the Weasley murmured. Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Damn, Weasley, your manners are as bad as your brother’s” he replied, smirking. He felt Granger hit him in the shoulder and he groaned, when Weasley did the exact same movement on his other shoulder and looked at him from head to toes.

“I wasn’t talking to you” she snapped, and she headed to her brother, whose back was against a column. Draco saw a fist go right to the Weasley’s chest and a whimper. He just looked back to Granger, whose eyes were on him. Specifically on his cheek. He shrugged.

“Thank you” she murmured, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“You brought Ron here. I don’t know why you did but…”. Draco opened his mouth but closed it again. Why had he brought Weasley back? It was the obvious thing to do. He wasn’t going to be a saint, but he knew leaving him there was unnecessary. Even though he kind of deserved it.

“Don’t bother” he said back, and she blinked twice, not saying anything more. “Er… thank you, for taking me out of there. It was worse than I expected”

“That was actually _my_ idea, Drake” a high-pitched voice replied, and Draco turned around to face the smiling girl who had just appeared, pushing Weasley to a side and opening her arms. Draco sighed. She was as beautiful as she remembered and she looked as dangerous as Pansy Parkinson had always looked. In fact, she was pretty dangerous.

“This… is a surprise” Draco managed to say, pulling her into an embrace, which Pansy accepted with joy, smiling in his shoulder.

“Missed me?”

“Do you doubt it?” Draco murmured. She smelled like she’d always smelled. Apples, black tea and family. Pansy took a step back and looked at him, her eyes wide open. Draco lifted her head and murmured something about how goddamn good-looking she was and she replied in the same tone that he’d never looked worse.

“I guess being locked in for 4 months doesn’t help much” he mentioned, and everybody went silent, including the Weasley siblings. Draco half-smiled and Pansy stepped back as he felt Granger’s and on his arm, gentle. It was then when he noticed Pansy looked thinner than ever, her cheeks sharp as they’d never been and her skirt showing her skinny legs.

“Are you…?” But Granger seemed like she knew what he was about to say, and she coughed. He looked down at her, frowning, and she muttered something he couldn’t hear. Pansy did, in fact.

“Okay, I… I’ve got to leave. I’ll see you later for dinner, Draco, we have so much to talk about” Pansy said, quickly. She took the Weasel’s arm and pulled him in front of her. He swore and Pansy just took her wand out, pointing it at his face. “Shut your mouth, Weasel. You stink”

“Parkinson!” Granger shouted, and the girl rolled her eyes, to Draco’s amusement, but lowered her wand and just pushed him to the stairs towards the Gryffindor’s common room. It was then when Weasley girl offered her hand to him.

“You’re going to have it hard here” she said, shaking his hand. He nodded. Of course he knew. “But I’m not an enemy. Not anymore, I guess”

“We stopped being enemies the moment your boyfriend stood up for me at my trial” Draco pointed out. “Was it your idea?”

Weasley just shrugged and smiled; a clean, beautiful smile that made Draco shiver. She really meant it.

“Not really. A lot of people still support you, you know”. And then she went upstairs, following Pansy and her brother and, in a matter of seconds, he was alone with Granger, who didn’t look as uncomfortable as him.

“Well… I really wanted to…” he began. He had to say it. He had to apologize as soon as possible and he had to do it at that moment, while he still had the courage.

“Don’t” she stopped him. “Not now. Please” she whispered, and then she held a paper for him, a note from McGonagall. And after he took it, she disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

Draco spent a lot of time by himself during the last week of class before Christmas break. Of course he was not going back to the Manor for the Holidays. There was nothing left, nothing but the insufferable pain that meant spending a second in that house, after all that had happened during the last year.

Seeing Blaise had been a relief, a bit of peace, as well as having Pansy supporting him. Both of them were going home, of course. And after being locked in the Common Room for a week, he found out he was going to spend another 15 days alone in the school, with no one to be with. No one to talk about how deeply sorry he was, no one to listen to him as he screamed at night.

He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to his friends. They were already going to send him one letter a day to make sure he was fine, which he completely was. He groaned when he listened to the last Slytherin boy leave the room and opened the window of his room. It was freezing outside. He looked around, his empty dorm, the mess on his desk. He’d spent the last five days reading the books McGonagall had given to him.

“You only have one task here, Mr. Malfoy” she had said. He had to have impeccable results on his NEWTS. That was the only reason he had been given the opportunity to come back. He sat down and kept on reading the notes he had taken out of the books. He was so delayed he doubted he was going to keep up with his classmates. However, he still had Christmas to catch up. He was sure as hell he was going to be outstanding, as he’d always been.

He thought of Blaise and how fucked up his life was, with his family accused of economically helping the Dark Lord. _As if he needed any kind of money_. And then he thought of Pansy and how she’d come back on Wednesday night crying because some stupid-ass had painted “ _Snitch”_ on her desk at her Transfiguration class, and then she hadn’t even been at dinner, or breakfast, or lunch the next day. Draco didn’t think her skipping meals couldn’t have a connection with her looking deadly skinny, but he never asked her, and she never told him. Not even when she said goodbye that morning, giving him a light kiss on his forehead and making him promise he would write her every two days.

So, Draco spent the first 22th of December of his life by himself. Studying Potions, biting his nails and wondering how his life would be if he’d decided to choose the right side from the beginning.

When he went down to the Great Hall to sit lonely on the Slytherin table while having dinner, he was surprised to see another set of plates in front of him. He was even more surprised to see an impossible to mistake thick braid at the entrance of the Room. Draco went silent when Granger sat next to him and poured some water in her glass.

“Merry Christmas” she murmured, serving herself some pork. He was still shocked to see her in front of him, dressed in muggle clothing. A red oversized sweater, he recalled, which seemed to be a couple of years old. It had a big “H” on it, and Draco was sure it was handmade. But he didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure how to act in front of her, afraid of her running off if he did something wrong.

“I thought you were going home for the holidays” he replied, and she stiffened. _Fuck. First words and you’ve already messed it up._ “Okay, sorry, I shouldn’t have said…”

“You had no idea, so it’s not your fault” she interrupted, calmly. She swallowed and closed her eyes, as if she was finding it hard to talk. “I don’t have a home, not anymore, at least.”

“What do you mean?”. God, that dinner was splendid. It had been long since he’d enjoyed so much a meal.

“I obliviated my parents. Before going on the hunt of Horcruxes. I couldn’t undo my spell, so they are still living happily in Australia and I couldn’t go to the Burrow, not now being the first Christmas without Fred. They needed that time for themselves, the Weasley. So I chose to stay. It’ll help me with my studying, I guess” she said, her voice dry, as if she was really trying not to show emotions.

“I’m really sorry”. He meant it. Every word.

“Don’t worry. It was my fault. How come you’re not home?”

“I guess I don’t have a home, either”

“They didn’t take the Manor away” she recalled, and Draco frowned. How the hell did she know that? “I listened to your trial” she added, shrugging.

“Maybe having the Dark Lord as a guest for months makes it uncomfortable to stay a minute more in that place”. He saw her face blush and he looked away. This was worse than anything else. He knew what he was thinking and he knew he couldn’t do anything to stop her from recalling those memories he shared with her.

“You are right” she whispered, and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself and took her hand. He felt her shiver under the contact, but he didn’t care.

“I am not that stupid boy. Not anymore” he said, the words slipping from his tongue without being able to stop it. “I know I fucked up and I know you don’t even want to be near me and so does the whole school. Not counting Weasley who is as brainless as Potter, maybe that’s what makes them be such a good couple” he added and he saw the shadow of a smile in her lips. “But I’m really sorry and I’ll try to make it up to you. Out of everybody, you’re the one who’s suffered the most because of my family and I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Are you your aunt? Then you shouldn’t feel…”she began, fierce, but he shut her up.

“Just. Just let me finish, okay? I was there and I didn’t even move. I couldn’t move, I was a fucking coward and maybe I might have killed us both if I had moved but at least it would have been quicker than that torture you went through. And I’m sorry for that, I’m so fucking sorry and ashamed of that night. But I’m also sorry for those years of calling you stupid names and…”

“It was what you were taught”

“Will you let me finish, Granger? It doesn’t make me less guilty. I did it because I was taught to hate, okay, but I also believed it. I meant every hurtful word I said to you over the 6 years we spent together. Even when I wasn’t so sure about the distinction between purebloods and muggle-borns, I meant to hurt you just because of you being better than me at anything”

She bit her bottom lip and Draco knew he was doomed the moment that girl had decided to sit with him. He knew there was nothing worse than admitting his sins and, still, he was admitting them because he needed her forgiveness more than anything. Maybe because he wanted her to explain why she took him out of the crowd, or maybe because he wanted her to admit that she didn’t hate him as much as her friends did. He knew Granger didn’t hate him and he needed to know why. Because she should be the one loathing him the most.

“So stop finding excuses not to hate me. I did all the wrong choices and I meant every one of them. I meant it when I wanted to join the Death Eaters and I meant it when I took the Mark. I meant it when I wanted to make my parents proud and I meant it when I attempted to kill Dumbledore. The only thing that stopped me from doing it was the fact I am a coward. But I also mean it when I say I’m really sorry and I would like to make it up to you even if you hate me for the rest of your life. I would also hate me” _I already do._

What she did next would make anyone cry, but Draco was far beyond the point of crying. She just took his hand and held it for a couple of minutes, her warm little fingers tangled with his. She looked up to him, her eyes big and honest, no fear in them.

“I don’t hate you”

“I don’t know why” he replied. She shrugged and held his hand tightly.

“Me neither. And I would like to hate you because that would make it easier to forget. But I don’t hate you, not anymore, I guess”

“You pity me, then” That was the only other response. People either hated him, like Weasley, or pitied him like McGonagall or Potter. She shook her head, a couple of curls falling off her braid onto her face.

“I don’t. I just find it hard to understand that change in you”

“War changes people. You’ve also changed.”

“I have, but you couldn’t have noticed”. _Oh, I have._ He had been watching her for the last week. Every time she took a break between classes, rushing to the Astronomy Tower to calm herself and then going down smelling like smoke and cinnamon. Every time she’d stopped writing her notes in the middle of a study session at the library and had just stared to the wall, her face blank. Every time she’d swore under her breath and had just decided not to run across the corridors and had walked calmly instead, even though she was late for class. Draco hadn’t attended any class, but he had, in fact, observed her. And he had noticed.

“Maybe I haven’t. But I know you have” he said, instead.

“I changed that night at the Manor, you know. What your aunt did to me, it broke me and I never got to be the same. I am not accusing you of anything” she added, softly. She was calm, his hand in between hers, and she was being honest with him, which he thought was an improvement. Maybe he could be friends with Granger, after all.

“It was my…” But she interrupted him again, getting up and crossing her arms.

“Just stop. It wasn’t. It was Bellatrix’s fault, and she’s dead now. Stop apologizing to me. It won’t change anything. I already forgave you”

“Still. I thought you needed to hear it”

“And I did, so thank you. Now we are going to forget this conversation and we are just going to enjoy our Christmas break. We are the only ones left at Hogwarts, you know”

“So you’re saying you’re stuck with me” he joked.

“I am, in fact” she smiled back. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to do something fun”

“I don’t know what do you…”

“Don’t make me regret my choice, Malfoy. But I think I’m beginning to trust you” she just said, offering him her hand and taking him out of the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

On the morning of December 31st, Hermione concluded that she, in fact, against all odds, liked Malfoy. She really liked him, liked his presence. Talking with him was like breathing fresh air after being drowning for decades. He was honest, he didn’t like to lie about his thoughts and he listened to her. He actually listened to her complaining about the Ministry’s fatal labour after the war. He listened to her panicking over the upcoming NEWTS and he listened to her dreams after graduating. He didn’t laugh at her when she said she actually would love to apply for Minister, like Ron had. He didn’t laugh when she admitted she would just love to bring her parents their memories back but she wasn’t good enough to do it so it was her biggest fail and it haunted her at night. He listened to her nightmares, most of them including Bellatrix Lestrange.

Draco Malfoy was a listener and Hermione liked him for that. He was so intelligent it sometimes shocked her to remember he was always the second in class for the last years, but she was too busy avoiding him to notice. They tended to spend long hours studying at the empty library in the morning, and she enjoyed watching him concentrate and swear from time to time when he didn’t understand something.

They also tended to take long walks to Hogsmeade and then drink a butterbeer or sometimes something stronger. She was surprised to see he liked muggle alcohol best, so they also tended to spend every night playing cards in the pub Ronald used to get drunk at, with a bottle of Vodka next to their glasses. Then, when she got too drunk to even continue playing, he tended to take her out of the bar, pulling her softly by her arm, and then light a cigarette and put it in her mouth because she couldn’t even concentrate to light one by herself. He would also light one for himself and then cast the sober-up spell she had never used, afraid she would mess up as she did with the _Obliviate._ She never talked to him about the muggle vice they shared, and she knew he was a new smoker. Hermione knew it even after observing the way he held the cigarette in his long fingers, in an elegant way only experts controlled. But he never asked her why she started smoking, so she never asked back.

It was a routine they had become used to, and Hermione liked it. She liked him, and she couldn’t deny it.

“So, you’re falling for Malfoy” Ginny concluded. They both were sitting at the Leaky, one in front of the other. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying he’s so… easy-going. It’s calm to be with him”

“Not fun, not nice. Out of all the adjectives, you had to choose c _alm_. What the hell?” the red-haired witch laughed. Hermione shrugged. Ginny had come to visit her and look after her, but Hermione knew she just couldn’t stand a minute in the Burrow with all the people, all the open wounds.

“It’s the truth. I don’t know. It’s been a week. Maybe he is still an ass but is bored” Hermione talked.

“I don’t think so. I know the way he talks about you. He’s so surprised you are nice to him. I mean, you are nice to everybody, but he doesn’t know that” Ginny smiled. Hermione arched her eyebrows.

“How do you know _the way he talks about me_?” she murmured, looking straight into Ginny’s soft brown eyes. Ginny went pale and coughed.

“So… Harry is coming to the Burrow tonight to celebrate New Year” she said, quickly.

“Ginny.”

“Thank Merlin he is, at least everyone will start pretending everything’s fine and mom will stop crying…”

“GINNY WEASLEY…”

“IamowlingPansy” she said, before drinking her butterbeer in one swallow. Hermione frowned and leaned on the table, closer to her.

“You what?”

“I said…” Ginny started, looking everywhere but her eyes. “I might have been owling Pansy Parkinson” she admitted in a whisper. Hermione went pale.

“Why on Earth would you do that?”

“You know, she’s actually nice. She’s having a hard time, as everyone in the Slytherin House. She really appreciates it, talking to a girl that isn’t her mother. Her only friends are Zabini, and, of course, Malfoy. The rest of them are either dead or in Azkaban. But the three are a strange pack. They hold together in order to survive and it kind of reminds me of you, my brother and Harry and…”

“But are we talking about the same Pansy Parkinson?”

“Hermione, Malfoy is not the only one that has changed. AND… Don’t change the subject”

“I didn’t!”

“The point is, Malfoy only talks about you in her letters to Pansy. She’s said, and I’m literally quoting, “She’s so fucking nice, Pans, I sometimes feel I don’t deserve her even looking at me”. Period” Ginny said, and Hermione’s heart skipped a beat.

“He’s exaggerating” she murmured, before looking at the table, her face red. Ginny laughed.

“We all know he’s not, but whatever. I won’t say anything” Ginny shrugged. She didn’t bring Malfoy up in their conversation, and Hermione thanked that. When Ginny said goodbye she hugged her tightly, murmuring something about her not being able to put up with a New Year’s eve without Fred and George’s jokes, and Hermione let Ginny have a minute of sadness and cry on her shoulder.

Later that night Hermione surprised Malfoy going up towards the Gryffindor Common room as she was heading there to leave her books before going down to have dinner. She frowned at him and he suddenly stiffened when he saw her.

“Hey” she said, catching up to him. He was wearing a muggle hat that covered his blond hair and a big, thick coat, his hands in the pockets. “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, and he didn’t reply until they got to the Picture.

“We are”

“ _We_ are?” she repeated, in disbelief. He looked nervous.

“If you want, of course. I thought we could celebrate somewhere else” he said, his voice almost a whisper, and Hermione smiled to herself. Was he really taking her somewhere?

“I don’t think the pub is open in New Year’s Eve” she commented, and he shook his head. He looked so funny with that hat she couldn’t stop looking at it.

“We are not going to Hogsmeade” he answered. She then opened her mouth, surprised, but he cut her off before she could even dare to ask something. “Just get changed, Granger, for fuck’s sake. Don’t ruin the surprise”

And she obeyed, going up to her dorm and taking her coat and scarf before rushing down and opening the door. He was still there, his back against the wall. When he saw her appear, he smiled slightly and began running down the stairs. Hermione quickly followed, closing her coat.

“Okay, may I ask where the hell are we going?” she asked to the air, but Malfoy was too far to listen to her. Why on Earth was she so excited? They went out of the Walls and Hermione swore she could feel the wards that protected the castle disappear as she stepped on the snow. It was so cold outside she wanted to shrink in her clothes. Besides, it was dark and she couldn’t see Malfoy anywhere.

“Where are you?” she muttered, looking around. He heard him cast _Lumos_ and he ran downhill to meet him, her brows furrowed. “You git! What’s with the rush?” she snapped, hitting him softly in the arm. He just took both her hands. His were almost frozen, but he didn’t seem to mind. Hermione opened her mouth but he put a finger on her mouth.

“Just keep the volume down, Granger, and stop complaining” he murmured, pulling her closer to him. She was shocked, but still let him embrace her as they apparated who-knows-where.

When she opened her eyes they were in the middle of one empty street, the buzz of people talking and laughing in her ears. She looked around, not knowing where they were. It smelled like Christmas, hot chocolate and sweets and happiness, all together. She looked at him, her mouth in a perfect O, and he just offered his hand to her, which she took instantly, without even thinking about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Granger was a piece of light and Draco knew it before he could even admit it. He also knew choosing a small country-side town to spend New Year ’s Eve was his best idea, as he watched the brown-haired witch wander among the little spots of the Christmas market, her eyes wide open and a smile in her face. She was radiant. She was a mess, frizzy hair and dark circles under her eyes because of the studying, but she still managed to be radiant.

When she came back to him, who had just decided not to bother her and wait outside the market, she was bringing two cups of hot chocolate. Granger offered one to him and he shrugged. He didn’t even like chocolate, but he took it anyway.

It was weird, to see all those muggles celebrating Christmas. He had never been in an all-muggle town and he found it weirdly pleasant. Calm, no signs of magic in it but also no signs of war, of pain. They were oblivious to the rest of the world and he liked it. He also liked the way Granger conversed with a muggle who had offered her a Christmas red hat. She was radiant, and Draco also liked it.

So, when he took her to the river five minutes before midnight and found it packed with people that had had the same idea, he felt mad. It was his plan, his place chosen meticulously in order to make her have a good memory. How was she even going to have fun if she couldn’t see the river and the little lights on the other side of it? There were only people dressed in weird muggle jumpers, wearing weird glasses and hats. He swore under his breath, but Granger was smiling widely. He hadn’t seen her smile so much in his life, and he was okay with it. He took is hand to his head and muttered something involving stupid people with stupid ideas and she laughed at his confused face, placing one hand on his own.

“It’s still a beautiful place” she said, and she looked honest. He nodded. He couldn’t complain, not when she looked so happy. So he screamed the ten seconds before midnight along with everyone and he smiled when Granger laughed with all the strength in her lungs as she wished everyone around them a Happy New Year. Then she turned to him, her smile still in her lips, and Draco thought she was the most beautiful person, inside out, that had ever existed.

“Happy new year” she whispered at him and he managed to form a sentence, his eyes locked on hers.

“Happy new year” he murmured, as she got closer to him. Draco felt his heart’s beatings faster than ever and he wondered whether he should move or not, but then the fireworks began and he shivered, the loud noise taking him by surprise. Granger only laughed again and looked up in the sky.

Later that night they were still laughing, in the middle of a packed muggle bar. She was jumping; dancing, singing, and Draco couldn’t look away from her as she walked towards the waiter and asked for two glasses of champagne. He raised an eyebrow when the waiter winked at her and invited her to a round of shots. And then the waiter saw him and shut up. Granger looked back at him and held a glass for him.

“First chocolate, then rum, and now champagne?” he asked, taking it. Granger rolled her eyes and smiled back at him, heading to the door of the bar and pushing it. He held it as she went outside and complained about the cold, a shiver down her spine that Draco could notice. Not that he was staring at her, with her white tee-shirt and her jumper tied on her waist, her frizzy hair into a messy braid.

He followed her and they sat in the middle of the street, her glass of champagne against his.

“A toast” she said, staring at him. Draco smiled and she laughed.

“What for?” he asked, as someone walked past them and murmured something. He didn’t care.

“Our New Year’s List” she said, as if it was obvious. He frowned and she opened her mouth at his face. “Come on, Malfoy! New Year’s Resolutions! You _need_ to have a list of things you want to do this year”

_I want to show everyone I’m not the Death Eater I used to be._

“Not really” he said, drinking from his own glass, as she drank from hers and made a face at the bubbles in her tongue. She laughed.

“Lies”

_I want to make this Mark disappear from my skin, even if I have to cut my own arm to achieve it._

“What are yours, Granger?” he asked, instead. She laughed again and looked at him straight in the eye.

“You know, the usual”. She was happy, and she had had a lot to drink. But still, she was fierce, and dangerous, and beautiful and radiant and everything Draco wanted, all in one. “I… I want to stop smoking. But I’ll start on Monday” she added, and he laughed. She leaned too close to him and Draco was afraid she was going to hear his heart, beating stronger than ever.

“Good thing, Granger”

“You could help me with that” she said to the air, and then she laughed again and he knew she wasn’t lying, but he also knew she didn’t want to stop smoking because it brought her as much peace as it brought to him.

“We’ll talk about my resolutions later”

_I want to stop feeling sad, all the time, except when you’re around because you oblige me to be nice._

“Ha! So you do have a list!” she shouted, triumphal, and Draco rolled his eyes before finishing his champagne. “Okay, so I want to work at the Ministry. Ah, and I want to continue with the SPEW” she added.

“The what?”

“Don’t ask. I also want to face my nightmares, oh, and I want to start rehabilitation, you know. Moving without pain and all that” she smiled him and his heart sank.

_I want to stop her pain but I don’t know how._

“Anyway, that’s mostly all” she concluded, and then she got up with a little jump and made him get up too, so that her face was at his chest. “What about yours?”

_I want to kiss her and I don’t even know why._

“I haven’t finished the list yet” Draco said, instead, and she made a sad face but smiled anyway, taking his hand and pulling him inside, where the music was too loud and the people were too happy.

He let himself go, asking for another couple of shots with Granger, laughing at how ridiculous they looked, with their sweaters in the middle of fancy-looking muggles, and then they both fell onto one couch, her lips brushing his ear and her laugh being the only thing he could hear. But the song changed, and it was Granger’s favourite song, of course, so she rapidly abandoned his side to roll onto the dance floor and before he could miss her he saw her.

Granger was dancing with her heart, a wide smile on her face and he felt so damn proud about their excursion he didn’t even want to tell her it was time to go back to Hogwarts.

But when he blinked she had disappeared and she was again on his side, her hand offering him to dance with her and Draco guessed one more song couldn’t hurt them. Not after how wrecked they already were.

So he danced, and he didn’t really know how to take that muggle music seriously, but he just followed Granger’s steps and he quickly found himself taking her hand and dancing until they were both too tired to even breathe properly. She was sweating, her face red and her moth taking short breaths, and still, with her white tee-shirt dirty with rum and her lips broken because of the cold, she looked radiant.

“Time to go” he murmured in her ear, taking her softly outside. She then murmured something about her sweater being gone and they were back at the bar, his vision dizzy and her eyes almost crying and he didn’t doubt in taking his own jumper off and offering to her.

When he apparated both back to Hogwarts, she almost fell onto the ground, if it weren’t for her arm clutching her waist and holding her against him. Draco felt her stiffen and her face blushed and he wondered if she could ever get more adorable.

But then he remembered they were both drunk and she wasn’t ever going to remember most of the night, so he accompanied her to her Common Room and saw her open the door. And in one second she was gone, and then Draco felt like the magic of that night was gone for sure. So he stood there, a couple of minutes thinking about what had just happened.

And just when he was beginning to walk down the stairs he heard the door crack open and he didn’t see the girl going out and throwing herself into his arms, so he stood there, frozen, as Granger hugged him tightly, her toes barely touching the floor.

“Thank you” she murmured in his shoulder, and he held her with one arm, breathing into her hair that smelled like rum, smoke and cinnamon. She then put her arms on his chest and looked at him, _really_ looked at him, before going back into her Common Room. And Draco knew he was doomed.

He had fallen for Hermione Granger in record time and he didn’t even know how to react to that.


	2. Made of stars

Hermione didn’t see Malfoy on January 1st, neither did she on January 2nd , and she feared for a couple of seconds  she had done something wrong that New Year’s Eve, something that must have annoyed him. It wasn’t like she thought about him all the time. She had stuff to do. Preparing for the arrival of the rest of the students, get her notes ready for the beginning of class. But she in fact surprised herself thinking of Malfoy more times than what she would like to admit.

She remembered that night as a blurry mix of emotions and the fact she still had Malfoy’s jumper in her closet made her wonder why on Earth she hadn’t given it back yet.

“Maybe because you still expect him to show up and say something to you” Harry answered, while they were taking through their mirror. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued organizing her Potions notes in one big binder. Ginny wasn’t helping at all, bringing Harry into the conversation the girls were having, but Hermione had been unable to hide her worries to her best-friend.

And there they were, the couple and her, talking about Malfoy and his behaviour. Hermione heard Ginny murmur something and frowned, while Harry laughed out loud.

“I don’t know what’s so funny” she snapped, and Harry’s face went pale as he straightened on Ginny’s bed at the Burrow.

“The fact that you’ve stopped worrying about my brother and begin worrying about the ferret” Ginny answered, instead. Hermione shot her a furious glare.

“I still worry about your brother! Where is he, by the way?”

“Locked in his room, as he’s been all Holidays” Harry answered, his tone low. Hermione looked into his green eyes and she saw the same worried light she had. They were Ron’s best friends, and neither of them was healed.

“We need to do something”

“Harry James Potter, can you please stop?” Ginny told him, her face suddenly red. Hermione guessed she and Ronald hadn’t sorted out their differences. Those two, not realizing they needed to be together.

“He hasn’t answered any of my letters” Hermione pointed out, and Ginny laughed.

“Maybe he thinks you’re on my side, which I hope you are, because any other side is wrong”

“Ginny” both Harry and Hermione said at the same time. She rolled her eyes and got up from her own bed.

“Anyway. Tomorrow I’ll be back, so try not to mess up whatever you have with Malfoy before I see it with my eyes”

“Ginny!”

“What? It’s true!” Hermione swore under her breath and then felt an itch on her scar that made her cringe. Ginny was still talking about how fantastic Harry had been, saving the Weasleys from killing each other at the New Year’s Eve’s dinner, while the Chosen Boy kept interrupting her to tell Hermione the giant amount of work he had to do for his Auror training and how it was the best thing that had happened to him.

“Besides, your boss loves having you around. Oh, the Chosen One, how magnificent he with his wand… Well wait ‘till I tell him how magnificent you are with your other…” Ginny was mocking him. Harry was trying to shut her up, only getting a bite on his hand, but Hermione couldn’t care less. She was noticing all the symptoms of a panic attack and she didn’t even know why, this time, when she was doing so well.

“Guys, I really have to hang up” she announced, her vision blurry. This was nothing new, the pain, but she didn’t want to talk about it with them. Harry and Ginny hurried up saying their goodbyes and Hermione was left alone at her dorm.

After assuring she was completely alone and the couple had really broken the connection, Hermione allowed herself to whimper as she lied on her bed, the Mudblood scars on her forearm red and itchy. How much she hated it, the fact they never seemed to completely heal. Hermione closed her eyes and took long breaths, maybe trying to calm herself down.

_One, two._

Bellatrix was carving her arms, blood running everywhere and staining the rug of the library. She was screaming, asking the same question over and over again, and Hermione was so terrified she couldn’t even answer.

_One, two._

Ron was whining on the snow, in the middle of the forest, her hands continuously trembling as she tried to heal the awful wound on his shoulder. It was her fault, it was her fault. She was screaming Harry and she knew it wasn’t his fault, but she was still screaming at everyone because Ron was suffering and it was her fault.

_One, two._

Greyback was onto Lavender’s lifeless body and she didn’t think twice. She shot him a curse to make him disappear. She wished she was the one disappearing.

_One, two._

Fred was dead. Lupin was dead. Tonks was dead. The little girl Hermione had helped out with Charms was dead.

_One, two._

Dumbledore was dead and they were all by themselves.

 _One, two_.

Her parents had called the police after finding out there was a stranger in their house, even if that stranger was herself. She couldn’t undo the spell. She was locked in for 16 hours before Harry came to take her out.

_One, two._

Hermione found herself stumbling and falling down the stairs, rushing to the Hospital Wing. Her whole body was shaking and she couldn’t contain her emotions when she found the door of the infirmary open and got inside, closing the door and sitting with her back on it.

Her sobs were hardly audible and there were no tears on her face but she felt so much pain in her arms and in her whole body she feared her whole heart had broken under the pressure of those memories, attacking whenever they wanted to.

She walked towards the cupboard where Madam Pomfrey kept all her medicines and looked for those pills she knew so well. Where the hell was the pain medication? She murmured the name of the muggle brand and looked for them in every desk she found. It wasn’t true. She really needed something to calm herself.

Something to deal with her anxiety, something to make her feel alive in any other way. And when she concluded there was nothing good for her in those cupboards, she panicked.

How had she been so stupid to run out of medication? Spells were going to do nothing against her mind tricking her. She had finished the last box when? Last week? Why didn’t she ask for more? Why hadn’t she needed anything?

Hermione felt an iron fist in her chest and breathed heavily, lowering herself onto a sink. She was feeling sick. But it wasn’t real, she reminded herself. It wasn’t real because she had overcome her fears, because she was fine. She was fine. Everybody else was wrecked, but she was fine. She was dealing with it perfectly.

 _Liar_.

She looked at her arm, the word Mudblood still red onto her skin, several cuts surrounding them. It was a reminder of how much she’d suffered and how lost she was. Hermione wandered the hospital wing, among the beds that had been packed for weeks after that May 2nd. She was there. She saw all the suffering, all the bodies.

The clean sheets still smelled like death. She wondered if she could ever wash that awful smell from her own body.

She fell on the floor when her legs stopped answering to her but, still there, wrecked, shaking uncontrollably, she didn’t cry. She wondered when the last time she’d showed weakness was. Hermione got up and just opened the door when she saw the face of the Head-Mistress in front of hers and swore under her breath, trying to stand up in a proper way, her legs burning. She rolled down the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing, covering the scars, and just coughed, waiting for McGonagall’s words.

“I was wondering what you were doing in here, Miss Granger” she just said. Hermione looked up at her. She could not lie to McGonagall, not when the professor was looking at her with one of her most inquisitive expressions.

“I was… looking for Madam Pomfrey” she murmured.

“What for?”

“Nothing” Hermione replied, her voice as calm as she could make it look like. McGonagall raised an eyebrow and let Hermione go through the door, her legs taking little steps, her knees shaking one against the other. But she couldn’t show weakness, not to the Head-mistress, not after how hard she’d tried to pretend everything was better than ever.

“Miss Granger” she heard her call her. Hermione turned around to McGonagall, her lines of expression deeper than ever. She had also aged. Hermione noticed. “I’ve been told of your excursions to the hospital wing for the last months”

“I’m fine” she said, instinctively.

“The nurses don’t seem to agree with you. We haven’t seen you in any of our morning reunions” she recalled. Hermione rolled her eyes. Those morning reunions McGonagall organized were nothing but a waste of time. Students sit in a circle and just talked about how they dealt with the horror of having faced death. Anxiety, depression, disorders, crying.

 _It should be called mourning sessions_ , she remembered Ron telling her.

“I don’t need them. I happen to be very busy revising”

“If that’s what you think, Miss Granger. Tell me, how are you going to deal with your abstinence from those muggle anti depressive pills until Madam Pomfrey gets back?”

Hermione froze where she was standing, her heart beating fast and strong.

“I’m fine, Professor. My friends are helping, we are helping each other”

“Maybe that’s not so true. Miss Lovegood happens to have a bed reservation here; since she always comes back after those terrible panic attacks she tends to have”. Hermione swallowed. She knew, of course she knew. She didn’t need to hear it. But McGonagall was implacable. “And I don’t think Miss Weasley is dealing with her symptoms as well as she would like to, since all she does in class is scratch the desks until there’s blood under her nails”

“She’s fine. She’s had her stuff, but she’s better than ever”

“And what about her brother? Don’t you think, Miss Granger, that Mr. Weasley appears to be too fond of fire-whiskey? Or is it a way of dealing with the loss of his brother?”

“It is, in fact. He has too much going on…” Hermione began to defend him, she’d always defend everyone, but McGonagall shut her up with a hand movement.

“Do you need me to continue, Miss Granger? About Longbottons’ sudden crying whenever the War is mentioned? Zabini’s aggressive behaviour? Parkinson’s loss of appetite?”

“They’ll be fine” Hermione then said. “I’m fine, and they’ll be fine. That’s why I need to be strong for them. Ginny is the glue, she sticks them all together, but she can’t do it on her own. I’m the one that has to be the mother. I need to be there for them and in order to do so, I need to be fine” she ended the sentence in a whisper. McGonagall’s expression softened as she raised her hand to touch one of Hermione’s cheeks.

“That’s where you are wrong”

“I am not!” she snapped. “They rely on me”

“Don’t you think you are already too broken, Miss Granger? You’re more hurt than anybody and, still, you continue telling me you’re fine”

“Because I am”

“If that’s what you believe… But remember that your pain is both physical and psychological. And that’s not easily fixed” she reminded her. “We watch you, Miss Granger. We know of your pain and I wish you could start fighting your demons instead of pretending you’re fine”

“I need to take care of them. No one else will. My own demons are secondary” Hermione murmured, and she really believed that. When everybody arrived, in a matter of hours, she had to be completely fine and her mind had to be clear so that she could help everyone. Including the Slytherins. If not her, who was going to look after them?

“Okay, Miss Granger” McGonagall finally let her go, and Hermione let herself go to the only place she thought she would be safe.

 

* * *

 

Draco hadn’t seen Granger in two days and it was basically his mother’s fault. It was January 2nd and the next day classes began, and Draco was not ready for that. He wasn’t ready to come back into class and feel all the stares, the glares, the hate.

He sat next to his mother at a small café in Diagon Alley and he looked suspicious both sides, while Narcissa Malfoy asked for a small, fancy coffee, and Draco just murmured he wanted the strongest drink they had.

He felt his mother’s look on him and raised his head towards her. In fact, her brows were furrowed, in an elegant way only his mother could achieve.

“What?” he snapped. She looked towards the window, not saying anything. Her silence was worse than her words. “I happen to sleep better after having had a drink” he excused himself. Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“It’s six in the afternoon, Draco”

“Whatever. Still helps”. An uncomfortable silence that seemed to drown him. He coughed and took a sip of his drink. Of course it wasn’t muggle. What did he expect? That drink was horrendous, compared with those muggle _combinados_ , like Granger had called them. and there he was, thinking about her.

“So… excited to see Pansy again? Her mother has sent me a lovely Christmas card…”

“Do you still mail each other?” Draco asked, confused.

“Of course we do. What our husbands had…” Narcissa began, and Draco rolled his eyes. He truly loved Pansy, like if she was a sister to him. However, her family was as awful as his. Not to mention her father was locked in a cell a couple of metres away from his father’s. “We are really close now” she said instead.

“So are we” Draco muttered. Were they? Pansy still hadn’t told him what was wrong with her. He knew something happened, but he wasn’t a Legilimens. But he was sure he was going to fix it when Pansy came back.

“How’s the break going?” her mother asked, softly. Draco snorted. _I’ve spent too many hours with a war hero and I might have feelings for her, because she’s simply the best person I’ve ever met._

“Not too bad. Lonely. I heard you spent it at Aunt Andromeda’s” he replied. She smiled and took his hand.

“You should see Teddy, he’s the cutest little boy ever” she commented, and Draco smiled. Of course his mother loved the kid. She loved children. Draco wasn’t too fond of those little crying creatures, but he still smiled when she showed him an image of a little baby with bright purple hair.

“He’s kind of cute” he replied, and Narcissa smiled. Draco couldn’t remember a time when his mother had smiled so much, and it truly made him feel better about himself. She looked younger, maybe, relaxed and calm, like she’d always been before the Dark Lord had condemned. Draco knew his mother hadn’t taken the Mark and he also knew she had argued until she had no voice left in order to stop him from taking the damn Mark and joining the Death Eaters.

“Are you happy, mother?” he suddenly asked. She blinked twice.

“How can you say that? Your father is locked in Azkaban, there’s no way…” she began to say. But this time it was Draco who took her hand tightly and looked at her, straight into her warm eyes.

“All I’m asking is if you are happy. It’s an easy question. Don’t think of father” he whispered. And then she nodded, and Draco breathed twice. She really was happier than she’d ever been, now that her husband was locked in and all those awful people were away from her.

Draco wondered if Narcissa had ever actually surrendered to the Dark lord’s orders, if she’d ever believed them. His mother was too good to do it; he knew it deep in his heart that she could have never killed a fly.

“I’ll be entirely happy when you find your happiness, Draco” she told him softly, and Draco shrugged. He was far from achieving it.

 

* * *

 

Hermione had spent the last thirty minutes sitting in the middle of the library, her face blank, no expression on it. However, her mind was like a storm, full of thoughts, ideas and memories. She couldn’t shut it up, not by herself. Her happy place was not her happy place anymore. The library was as calm as always, but something in it disturbed her. Maybe it was the cold, the languid light, the extreme silence. She needed to focus. Hermione had to be alright for the next day and she needed to get it all together before anyone could notice. She had to, for her own good. And she had to, for her friends. So she got up and rushed outside, her mind set on another place.

 

* * *

 

When Draco went back to the school, he found it desert, as it’d been for weeks. He knew it was only him and Granger, no parent would let their children spend Christmas by themselves after almost losing them at the Battle.

But he still found it extremely dark inside, too silent, and too quiet for it to be okay. Draco shook his head and supposed it had been because of his talk with his mother. He smiled softly while going down to the Slytherin’s rooms. His mother was a hell of a woman; that was obvious. But she was also so brave he had found out she had a lot in common with Granger. He wondered why all his thought led to her and swore to some paintings in the walls while he ran down the stars towards the dungeons. Maybe Granger had got tired of the books and had decided to look for him.

But she wasn’t there, and it was too pretentious of him to say that, but she was always the one waiting for him before dinner. Obviously, it was too early to even think of dinner yet, but Draco had kept the illusion she would meet him there.

_You’re such a stupid git sometimes. Why would she wait for you?_

He decided to go to her dorms and apologize. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he had to say. His mother had just absorbed his time in such a way he hadn’t even had time to tell Granger he was going to be away for the day. He was thinking of the many ways he could explain when he found the Stupid Fat Lady that guarded the dorms gone from her painting, a couple of portraits above.

“Hey!” he yelled. She rapidly went back to her place, her movements too clumsy. Of course she had to be tipsy again. “Hey, is the Room empty?” he asked politely. He was a Malfoy, he had his manners. The Lady just stared at him and giggled.

“It’s just me tonight, young man. Looking for the Golden Girl?”. Draco snorted. He had heard so many nicknames, but Golden Girl was a new one. And it was surprisingly very appropriate for Granger.

“Yes, I was wondering…”

“Such a pride, to have the three of them in my House. The Chosen One might not come back, but he will always remember me as the most beautiful painting…”

“So where is she, if I may know…?”

 “No, she’s not here, and no, you can’t come in. A Malfoy, in Gryffindor territory!” she gasped at the thought and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Never has a Malfoy come so close to my painting, it’s been so long I even forgot how pretty they tend to be. Oh, Gad! And not only a Malfoy, but a Black as well! Have you seen this, ladies?” she laughed at her companions in the other frame a couple of metres above. Draco crossed his arms, confused. That Stupid Fat Lady knew too much about him. It was unpleasant, as well as basically annoying.  “Just one Black has ever crossed these walls, how I wish he hadn’t. So much, so, so much trouble. How pretty he was, however, that’s undeniable. You’re much more delicate, kid…” she continued, and Draco just couldn’t take it.

“Can you please just tell me if she is here or not?” he yelled, and the Lady’s face went blank.

“She left hours ago. Not very nice of her, to be honest. Such good manners she had, but when they become famous they just forget…”

“To the library?” he wondered. The lady raised an eyebrow.

“She didn’t have any books with her, pretty boy. How come you’re so interested?”

“Did she tell you where she was going?” he snapped.

“Of course not, I’m not any kind of gossip, how do you dare? She looked as if she was in pain, but everybody here looks like that. It’s not news”.

“Bloody hell” Draco murmured, before rushing down the stairs. He didn’t know where she was but he was right from the beginning. Granger was not at the castle. She wasn’t there and he had known since the moment he came back but he was too stupid to even trust his own instincts. He heard the Stupid Fat Lady scream something about _that tormented beautiful Malfoy boy might have a crush on our Golden Girl,_ but his head was too busy trying to find out where Granger could be.

Draco tripped on his own feet and fell over a railing, swearing in the three languages he knew. He knew no one could hear him, but he wished, _oh, how he wished,_ the Head-Mistress had heard him because, let’s be clear. She heard everything. She knew everything. She would know where Granger was. So when he almost ran into McGonagall, who was waiting at the entrance, he was out of breath, and he had his words ready for her.

“What do you know?” he shouted. “What do you know about her that I don’t?”

“Mr. Malfoy…”

“She’s not at the library and she’s not at her dorms, so of course there’s something up with her!” He screamed, his hands on his knees, as he caught his breath.

“I suppose you are talking about Miss Granger” she replied, calmly.

“Of course I’m talking about Granger!” he snapped.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Miss Granger might have had an anxiety attack earlier in the day, but…” the professor tried to explain herself, but Draco was not listening anymore. _Anxiety attack._ She was fine a day ago. She was fine that night.

“She’s in trouble, isn’t she? Where is she?”

“Miss Granger left for Hogsmeade long ago, Mr. Malfoy. She was meeting someone and she asked for permission…”

“Like Hell she did” he murmured. “Open the doors. Open the fucking doors, Professor!”

“Malfoy!! Have you lost your mind?!”

“She. Is. In. danger!” he screamed.

“What makes you think you know her better than I do, Mister Malfoy?!” McGonagall shouted back, and Draco felt his heart ache.

“I actually don’t, but I’m so stupidly mad about her I would go to the end of the world right now” he replied. McGonagall gasped.

“If she hasn’t told you about her suffering from PTSD…”

“PTSwhat?” Draco said, furrowing his brows.

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mr. Malfoy. You should educate yourself in muggle concepts…” she began.

“Everyone is suffering. I’m not stupid. I know she is suffering”

“Maybe Miss Granger is having a hard time admitting she is suffering” McGonagall replied, and Draco feared the conversation was going to take much longer, but he felt the doors opening and he rushed to the Apparition point.

 

* * *

 

Hermione was running out of cigarettes but she didn’t seem to care. She lit another one (how many, already, that afternoon?) and took a deep breath, her head on her hand, her legs onto one of the chairs of the already familiar pub. The waiter was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and Hermione made a face as she drank the last bit of liquor remaining in her glass, the cigarette between her fingers.

“What are you looking at?” she snapped.

“War really has changed people” the waiter just said, approaching to her with a bottle of Whisky in his hands. He couldn’t be older than her father, and Hermione felt her eyes itch at the thought of him. She took the bottle and placed it next to her feet.

“You didn’t know me” she replied.

“You’re Granger, the girl who saved the Chosen One’s ass so many times he might owe you with six lives”. She laughed and took a long zip. She hated whisky, but she didn’t care at the moment. The waiter made a noise. “You’re too drunk” he pointed out. She grinned.

“You know what? You might be right, but I don’t mind. I’ve had an awful day”

“Looks like an awful set of days” He wasn’t entirely wrong. But he spoke too much. “You’re also the one that comes here to get that famous red-haired boy out of here when he can’t stand up by himself. You usually shout at him, and you’ve come here with that blond boy too, the pretty one. I notice stuff” he winked at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes. _Again._

“That blond boy is none of your business” she groaned.

“You were really mad about the red-haired, once”

“I guess not anymore” Hermione sang. She drank the rest of the bottle in a couple of zips and immediately felt a pain in her stomach. She had run out of pills and her whole body had hurt. She was alone, at least until tomorrow morning, and she really needed to disconnect for a while.

She was doing nothing wrong, she told herself. She was getting drunk like Ron always did, and at least she wasn’t worrying anyone else. She was suffering the worst symptoms of them all, and she hadn’t admitted it yet.

“I’m wrecked” she muttered, suddenly, and the waiter took the empty bottle from her hands. “Hey!” she whined.

“Enough for today, young Saviour. Go home, for fuck’s sake. It’s not a place for a lady to be at this time of the night”

“You know that’s extremely sexist, right? I don’t care, there are plenty bars here. Thank Merlin” she began to get up but had to sit again. Everything was moving around her. “Besides” she started, pointing at his face with a finger, before finally standing up with difficulties. “It’s literally the first time I’ve been this drunk. Let me breathe, man”

“Out. Now”

She couldn’t think properly, but she still managed to hide a bottle under her coat while the waiter dealt with a sudden spider attack, which she was completely responsible for. And she found herself alone in the middle of the street. She was broken. McGonagall was right. The next day she wouldn’t even be able to wake up but she didn’t care. She wished she could forget everything, everyone, and just heal herself.

“Oh, crap” she muttered, falling on the frozen snow and opening the bottle.

 

* * *

 

Draco swore he didn’t mean to be right. He didn’t want to be right in his suspicions, but he was, however. He found Granger right where he knew he would find her. Covered in snow, hardly awake and her hands clutched onto a bottle of Whisky. He saw her even though she was still several feet away from him. But she was unmistakeable and it was impossible not to notice her. He felt his own legs running towards her and fell to the ground in front of the girl, attempting to touch her. She was literally frozen.

“Fuck, Granger, fuck” he muttered, taking her in her arms. She shook her head, opening her eyes and raising her eyebrows.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she murmured, her voice hardly audible. Draco bit his lip and helped her out, his arm around her waist, getting her onto her feet. Her lips were swollen and she didn’t appear to be letting go of that bottle anytime soon, _fuck my existence._

Draco took a couple of steps back and then offered her his own coat, realizing she, of course, wasn’t wearing one, but she swore in Gaelic and pushed him to a side of the road. Draco was too shocked to see she could actually push him in her state, but then he realized she might be stronger than what she looked like. _She punched me in the face and it hurt like hell._

“Damn, Granger, put the _bloody_ coat on or I’ll put it on myself”. She groaned and he held the coat for her, while he analyzed her. She smelled like smoke and alcohol, her hair was a mess _like always_. But her face was red, her eyes swollen and she looked like she was about to cry. That’s probably what hurt him the most _. The fact that he knew her_. Contrary to what everyone believed, he had got to know her in record time and it was so fucking dangerous to him, to fall so deep for one person. To care so much.

“What are you staring at, Malfoy?” Granger asked, dry. “Get out”

He just took her by the arm and pulled slightly, not surprised to feel her trying to back off and get off his hand. Draco held her tighter, not giving up. When she began screaming, he finally let go and turned his face to her, crouching on the sidewalk.

“I said get out!”

“Stop being a child, fuck” he murmured, getting his wand out of his pocket and pointing it at her. “Enough with the attitude, Granger. _Stay still_ ”. And what happened next made him lose the balance. She stormed against him, her fist on his chest and her voice clear but also broken.

“Don’t… you dare” she kept saying, over and over again, and Draco found it hard to grab both her hands and made her stay still, her gaze full of rage. He pushed her against a cold wall and she shivered. Something was tormenting her.

“Granger. Granger, what’s…?”

“Don’t make me sober. Please, don’t. _Draco,_ let me have this time”

“How about no, Granger?” he said. He blinked twice. She had called him by his name. And it felt amazing, a tingly sensation in his insides. But she was drunk as she’d never been before and, was she really tearing up?

Draco then felt her hands on his neck as she pulled him down to meet her eyes, his back arched against the wall. Draco felt her hot breath on his jaw and he also felt himself shiver. Of course Granger noticed, her hands on his back, her lips casually touching his neck, her tears down his own black shirt.

So he changed his tactic and passed his arms around her waist and back and held her closer to him, letting her rest onto her body. He stood still for a couple of minutes, while she kept crying with strength, her sobs audible everywhere in Hogsmeade. It felt as if she was breaking on the inside, and Draco had to agree with McGonagall for once. Of course she was right.

“Granger, Granger please talk to me. I can’t know what’s happening” he muttered in her hair, her hands caressing the top of her back. She felt tinier than ever and Draco was so confused.

“I… can’t take it” she sobbed. “I can’t take it, I can’t take it anymore”

“Granger, Granger, please, calm down” he murmured, lifting her head to meet his gaze. She swallowed, her bottom lip trembling as her whole body shook, uncontrollably. Draco was the sure if he wasn’t holding her she would have probably fallen onto the ground.

“I… I can’t stop… I can’t stop crying” she cried, and Draco didn’t know what else to do. He hadn’t been in that situation and he prayed not to ever be again.

“Okay, it’s okay. You can cry” he managed to say, but she had already started talking and he knew it was lost for him, because he wasn’t ready to listen to her.

“I can’t stop… I can’t stop the nightmares, I can’t stop the pain… and I try to, oh, I really try to… I… I need to be… strong” she sobbed, and Draco just kept muttering “It’s okay” in her hair, as she clutched to the end of his sweater.

“I can’t let them down. But… nobody is there for me and… and I can’t anymore. It hurts too much; I need to shut it up…”

“Sh… Granger, just calm down, okay? We… We will look for a solution” he said, then. _We._ She raised her head again, her face surprised, and he managed a grin. “I’m stuck with you in this, aren’t I? It’s partially my fault”

“It’s not” she snapped, hitting him softly on the shoulder, and she stood back, crossing her arms. “It’s no one’s fault. When will you understand you are not guilty of the whole War?”

“When will you understand you are not alone in this?”

“I am” she murmured, but Draco was relieved to see she had stopped crying. It was impossible to be already sobered up, not with the large quantity of alcohol she had drank before he had arrived. But she was not crying and it was good.

“Shut up, Granger, shut up”

“No! I… I mean it. God, I don’t even know what I’m saying” she mumbled. “I… I am the one to be blamed. I am the one not admitting I’m wrecked. I am, I am broken, and I am so busy trying to heal everyone I don’t get to fix myself”

“At least you admit it” Draco agreed. He felt Granger’s furious gaze on him. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that”

“It’s your fault” she said. “I have been so busy with you these days I’ve forgotten to have a plan to help everyone and…” Draco snorted.

“And there you go again. You’ve been too busy trying to fix yourself, so stop blaming me for trying to help you out!”

“Fix me? You?”. He took a step closer to her and he swore he could see her containing her breath, her eyes locked on his. He put both hands on the wall, at each side of her head, and she stood still, for the first time in the whole time.

“Let me take you to Hogwarts, Granger. Please” he murmured, his mouth on her forehead, barely touching her. She shivered and Draco felt it, shaking his head so that his long fringe wasn’t bothering him.

“How are you going to fix me?” she muttered, however and Draco rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know, Granger, I don’t know. But I do know that you haven’t had an anxiety attack in the whole duration of these Holidays and you were doing so fucking well”

“You weren’t here yesterday” she then accused him, and Draco felt an itch in his heart. She was right. But he didn’t really know a day was going to make a difference. “You weren’t here today, when everything started hurting and I felt like I was going crazy” she said, her voice hardly a whisper but her words cold as ice. Draco breathed heavily, not knowing if he was cold because of the lack of a coat or her words, speaking the truth. “You have never been here whenever I had any of those attacks. And it’s been months. Don’t… _Don’t you dare tell me,_ me not having them is because of you”. And that broke him. He took a couple of steps back, wondering if she really meant her words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I am here now” he murmured.

“My whole life does not get solved because of you appearing all of a sudden, completely changed and good and likeable!”

“I know! Of course I know, Granger!” he yelled, furious. She bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms.

“No! Listen to me! I might be drunk as hell but I do know, drunk or not, that you’re not like this! You’re Malfoy, you will always be Malfoy and me spending time with you is…”

“A way of surviving” he completed. She was not being fair. She did not see he really cared. Of course she didn’t. He hadn’t cared about anything over the last eight years and he expected her to believe him after two weeks of being nice?

“I didn’t mean…”

“You did, Granger, don’t try to deny it now. It’s not easy at all, to be a good person when I’ve spent my whole life being an arse!”

“Then stop being nice! Stop whatever your plan is because; guess what, it’s not working! I am still Granger, the broken one, the know-it-all, the Golden one, the _mudblood…_! And you are _you_!” she snapped, and he grasped her wrist, strongly, making her whimper in pain.

“Next time you call yourself _that_ again fucking remember that you’re the damn best witch that’s ever existed” he hissed, his heart racing.

“Let go” she murmured, and he nodded before turning his back on her. He wasn’t going to have her say those things. Merlin, how much she hated her when she said those words, as if they were true. Because they weren’t. He was a Malfoy, she was a Granger, and that was _enough_.

“If you are not going to listen to me, listen to McGonagall. She wants you back” he said. She mumbled something he couldn’t hear and he opened an eye to see her standing in front of him, her hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?” she asked, softly, and Draco arched an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you sober up, Granger? It would be a lot of help, to be honest. You are honestly insufferable when you are drunk” he offered her his own wand and she shook her head.

“You are an asshole” she stated, and Draco nodded.

“I am”

“And you are trying to help me. Why?”

“I told you…”

“The truth”. Draco sighed.

“Let go, Granger. This was a mad idea, to come get you”

“I need to know! I need to know why I’ve trusted you these days; I need to know why you’re so focused on helping me out! I need… to know why on Earth you decided to help me and not heal yourself”

“Maybe the only way of completely heal is if we fix each other” he whispered, and he really believed that. But she was drunk, her eyes bright as the Sun and her face furious, and he knew that it was mad, because she was Granger the perfect girl and he was Draco, the boy who never ever made the right choice. And whatever might have brought them together was now broken. Granger didn’t trust him and she shouldn't. But he had to say it, outloud. 

“Because I might have fallen for you and your broken side, the way you are always trying to be strong for everyone, the way you care for all these people that have done nothing but hurt you. I might have fallen for your way of helping the Weasel out, even though he does not deserve it, and even the way you talk to me, as if I was not a monster. I might have fallen for the way you talk about your dreams and I’m sure as hell you won’t achieve them if you don’t fucking wake up and fix yourself” he breathed out. “And I’m not letting you call yourself a mudblood again because the next person who says that word in my presence will have no tongue anymore. So, yes, Granger, be a brat at me, scream at me because Merlin knows I’m not going anywhere anytime soon” he admitted, his eyes closed. _Awesome, Draco. You’ve mess up big time._

And then she swore under her breath and Draco was ready to just move to the Apparition Point by himself, prepared to build his walls up again and just don’t give a fuck about anyone, when he heard her run towards him and then felt her hands on her shoulders, bringing him down.

“ _Hermione,_ what…?” but he couldn’t continue, because her lips where on his, all broken and cold and swollen and _hers._

And they felt so amazing against his own lips he couldn’t think of anything else at the moment, nothing but the feeling of her hands on her neck and his arms around her waist. Draco didn’t even think about the awfully wrong consequences of her movements because it was just her who mattered.

She was giving herself into that kiss and Draco realized he’d been longing that moment since almost forever, and he also found himself giving everything he had into her mouth. All his rage, his confusion, his hate, his doubts and his fears. It was her mouth against his and her tongue dancing a slow tango with his, Granger’s teeth on his bottom lip. It was messy, unorganized, uncoordinated and it was so perfect Draco couldn’t think of a best memory to keep for himself.

He couldn’t hold it anymore and just moved his mouth on her neck, breathing, brushing with his lips every inch of skin on that exposed area. She moaned against his ear and Draco looked up at her, her eyes closed, her mouth open, and she couldn’t get any prettier. It was not possible. However, Draco shook his head and gently pulled back, after kissing her lips chastely. She frowned and looked at him, confused, her hands still on her neck, her forehead against his, and Draco found it hard to take a step back.

“Not like this” he murmured, before taking her arm and pulling her to the Apparition point. He found no resistance that time, but he also found a deep silence during their walk. When they arrived to Hogwarts, she was still silent, her face red, and Draco bit his lip, helping her out on the stairs.

It was when they were reaching the Fat Lady painting when she stopped, her eyes wide open, her hands on his chest. _She was so fucking drank she had dared to kiss me._ Maybe she was expecting a good night kiss or whatever, but Draco new better. All he wanted was to kiss her again and forget about all their problems. However, he just pushed through the door of the Common Room and whistle so that an elf would help her out to her dorms.

Draco didn’t look back when he left the Gryffindor Common Room, not even when he stepped out of that colourful place where he supposed the Golden Trio had spent so much time looking for trouble.

 

* * *

 

“So why are you mad at Malfoy, again?” Hermione heard Harry ask. They were both at Ginny’s dorms, unpacking her stuff. The rooms were filled with noises and voices and Hermione guessed there was not a better time to talk about her situation with Malfoy, when no one really cared about anyone but finishing unpacking in order to go to the Great Hall for lunch.

“I am not mad. I’m just frustrated”

“Have you shagged yet?” Ginny yelled from outside the room while Hermione unwrapped her brand new broom. She stood still, her face burning. _I actually kissed him, and he kissed me back before apparently regretting it._

“You are such a brat”

“Is that a _yes…_?”

“GINNY!” both Harry and she screamed. Hermione shook her head before focusing on Ginny’s baggage. She sat on the floor, next to Harry, who still looked at her with a worried look.

“What now, Potter?”

“You just look like you’re having the worst hangover of your life” he replied. “Have you tried a tonic?”. Hermione smiled. Her head pounded and she felt sick but she was better than ever. Her mind, despite the ache, clear as it’d never been. She was better than ever to start the second term. No Malfoys allowed in her head, she just had to focus. She was the mother.

“I’m fine. Might have drunk a little too much on New Year” she joked. “So, Ginevra, why is it again that your brother is not coming back?” she asked, her face towards the corridor. Ginny’s red-hair appeared on the door, her face in a strange grin.

“Oh, the asshole of my boyfriend has offered him a place at the Auror training Institution and the coward of him has accepted” she answered, her gaze fulminant. Harry made a noise and continued unpacking Ginny’s unpaired socks, all of a sudden really interesting for him.

Hermione just shook his head. That was unexpected. But she was not going to argue with Ginny about the benefits of him being away. Auror Training was strict; it would be awesome for Ron.

Harry left an hour later and Ginny refused to go down to the Great Hall until Hermione was honest and told her what had really happened the day before after finishing talking through their mirrors.

“I told you, I went for a drink”

“By yourself”

“He was out for the day”

“And nothing else happened”

“I already told you, about six times”

“Are you sure?”

“I think I am, since I’m the one who was there, for God’s sake, Gin!”

“Are you sitting with me and the Slytherins?”

Hermione felt her heart race. She did not want to see Draco, not after the embarrassment of the day before. She had been to the Hospital wing at the point of dawn, Madam Pomfrey with her package ready for her. Hermione guessed what had happened was just a sign of warning, but she did not care. She couldn’t let herself show those emotions ever again. She could not let herself had an anxiety attack.

 _I kissed Malfoy._ And, Merlin, what a great kisser he was. Or maybe it was her mind tricking her and making her think he had actually kissed her back. She was sure as hell it was never going to happen again.

“I don’t know. I might”

She ended up sitting alone in the Gryffindor table, a book next to her. It was like her first days at Hogwarts before being friends with Ron and Harry. She could see Ginny talking with Parkinson while Zabini and Neville were having a nice, civil conversation. Malfoy was just there, next to them, her eyes lost and her mind on something else, that was for sure. Hermione wondered if it was where hers was, despite her tries of forgetting about the night before.

Then he found her and locked his eyes on hers. Hermione felt her heart stop for a second before looking back to him, her face probably red. But she was a Gryffindor, so she looked back, her eyes open and wild. She was stuck in his light grey gaze and she didn’t even care, not until a first year sit next to her and asked her for an autograph. Hermione shook her head and lowered it to the little boy, her face still blushed.

At her Herbology class she messed up trying to open a shell and she almost burnt her _Volubilis_ potion, even though she was supposed to know how to brew it perfectly. It was not Hermione’s day, but it wasn’t either Hermione’s week. She avoided Ginny constantly, as well as Malfoy or his friends. Whenever Pansy Parkinson came closer to her she just disappeared. Every time she had to pair up with Zabini in Transfigurations she felt her stomach curl up and she didn’t even know why. Maybe she was terrified of everyone, or maybe she had gone completely mad, at last. But she felt alone, as she’d never been. Not even Neville’s talks helped her. In fact, they made it worse. Neville had started going to the Morning Sessions with Luna and they were doing better than ever.

Ron was fine, Ginny was finally controlling her rage periods and she even noticed how Pansy was eating elegantly a giant, literally giant, piece of meat at dinner on Friday the 8th of January. Christmas had been awesome to all of them, but her. And she felt useless. Alone and useless.

“So, Miss Granger, have you considered going into rehab?” McGonagall asked her. They were both at her office, Hermione in front of the Head-Mistress table with a cup of tea in her hands.

“I have considered it” she whispered. “I’m still thinking I don’t need it”. _It was part of my New Year’s Resolution list,_ a voice in her head mentioned. Hermione shook her head. She could not miss that amount of hours just going through that amount of pain. What if it didn’t work?

“Spells don’t work forever. Neither do pills” McGonagall reminded her.

“The Doctors said rest would be enough for my rest. So did you” Hermione accused her.

“The Doctors and I had no idea how much damage there was on your tendons, and how…” McGonagall began to explain.

“Why is everybody dealing with it just fine? Why has Christmas suddenly changed everyone, but me?” she blurted out.

“They are far from being okay. So are you, but they’ve made an effort. You, Miss Granger, contrary to what you usually tend to do, are falling behind”

“It’s frustrating. I was the one healing them. They are two weeks away and they just decide they don’t need me anymore and it can’t be. I had a mission, it was my plan” she said, leaning on the chair.

“What does Mister Malfoy think of your stubborn behaviour?” McGonagall then asked. Hermione felt her face blush at the moment and all of a sudden it was boiling hot in the room. She choked on her tea.

“He has nothing to say about my behaviour” she snapped, her hands shaking.

“It doesn’t look like it, since he is the only one coming here every morning and every night to ask if you have already done a movement towards your healing process” McGonagall pointed out, and Hermione felt like dying a little bit on the inside.

“Has he really?”

“He is another stubborn one, Draco Malfoy. I wonder what’s happened to him, but he does seem like he is changed. For good. He offered Mrs. Lovegood to visit his own place so that she could finish her treatment facing her bad memories. He even bought Mrs. Weasley a broom and got her an interview with…”

“He what?” Hermione whispered. She didn’t let McGonagall continue talking, since all she could do was storm out of her office and rush towards the dungeons.

 

* * *

 

 

Being away from Granger was as awful as Draco guessed it would be. She seemed to be allergic to his presence, since all she liked to do when he approached her was to run away. Literally run away. Even Weasley couldn’t understand her behaviour.

“It’s so not like her” she kept saying. “I swear to God, I told Harry and he was all like “ _’Mione? Running away? Are you sure it’s not Ron you’re defining?”_ ” she explained, and Pansy giggled while sitting across from her at the Three Broomsticks.

Draco snorted and looked at Longbottom, his mind in another place. His was also running around Granger, as it always was since Christmas.

“Maybe she’s finally showing her symptoms” Longbottom said, his voice a whisper. Weasley raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be an idiot, Neville. She hasn’t shown them. Maybe she is immune”

“I wonder how you call yourself her best friend, right now” Draco finally said, all eyes on him. He drank his butterbeer in one zip. “ _Fucking_ Granger might be the best witch to ever live in the Wizarding World and she has outcome us in so many ways, but she is as wrecked as all of you, as broken as me. And you not noticing it, that’s just disgusting” he murmured. They didn’t talk about Granger anymore.

He walked to Hogsmeade by himself. His whole body was trembling in rage. He could not change Granger’s mind and he could not change her friend’s thoughts about her. He had helped them all because he needed to do something, to give meaning to his free life. But healing Granger seemed impossible. And he wanted to, oh, how he wanted to.

When he arrived to Hogwarts, it was as silent as it always was since the beginning of the course. The students still looked at him, confused and afraid, but Draco didn’t seem to care, not anymore. 

When he rushed down the stairs towards the dungeons he stopped, seeing the figure that was already waiting at the entrance. She might have heard him because she lifted her head and Draco felt his blood hotter than ever, his hands sweating. But he still went to her and stood there, in front of the sitting girl, waiting for her to talk.

Granger just got up and faced him, still silent. Her eyes meant to say a lot of things but Draco could never truly understand the light in them. Not even in a lifetime, Granger’s eyes were a mystery to him.

“Why have you been helping everyone?” she then snapped, her hands on her waist. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course she had noticed.

“It’s none of your business, Granger” he answered, and he could _feel in his bones_ that she was angry. Really angry at him.

“IT IS! I am the one fixing everyone and you just put your fucking nose in my fucking plan and messed up! And everybody seems to be doing better than ever and it is not fair! I should be the one helping them! I am responsible for all of them and you got here like a bloody knight in shiny armour and…” she breathed and continued yelling, her face contracted in a furious grin. “You can’t do that. You don’t get to do that. You don’t have everyone forgiving you and you don’t get to be the best person in here, caring for everyone…”

“I don’t want to have the Best Person Award, Granger” he snapped back, taking a daring step towards her. She found the wall behind her back. “I want _you_ to heal. And you’re so freaking stubborn that I thought maybe, just maybe, if you saw everyone dealing with their struggles you would begin to handle yours” he admitted, his voice full of rage, and he saw her bottom lip tremble.

“I…”she began her attack but he shut her up, putting both his hands on her cheeks. He didn’t even care about his actions.

“If you dare start crying I swear on my mother I won’t know what to do” he admitted, in a whisper. He could not let her cry. “So if you’re mad, scream at me, hit me or hex me into next week but don’t dare to cry because I…”

He saw the shadow of a smile in her lips that quickly turned to a pouting face.

“I wasn’t going to cry” she defended herself, and Draco loosened his hands.

“Of course you were”

 “You must be lying” she accused him, and Draco sighed.

“About what? Hating to see you cry? You look awful when you cry, like a new-born. All red and swollen, your face. It’s not nice to watch” he said back. There he was. that was him. That was the Malfoy everyone expected him to be.

“You are an asshole. Why do you always destroy everything with your words?”

“It’s me, Granger, remember. I am Malfoy. I might care, but I’m still an arse. It is what everybody keeps telling me, isn’t it?” he said, instead. She bit her bottom lip.

“So you care” she murmured, narrowing her eyes. “About my friends”

“Last time I checked Pansy was my friend, not yours”

“I am still _madly mad_ at you” she told him, and Draco rolled his eyes.

“I can take it”

 “Well, you shouldn’t. And you shouldn’t worry so much about me because, let me say, I am fine and I will not…”. Draco rolled his eyes again and just murmured a _Finito Incantatem_. The result was the expected. Granger mouthed a whimper and could have fallen onto the ground if Draco hadn’t been ready for her to collapse. He held her waist with one arm, her face contracted in pain, and Draco muttered all the painless charms he knew. Granger didn’t say a word; she just stood there in his arms, her heavy breathing against his chest, her face relaxing within seconds.

 “I’ve avoided you for days” she finally said.

“You’re quite good at it, you know. Not so good at hiding your symptoms” he replied. She arched an eyebrow and Draco coughed. _Wrong answer._

“What I mean…” he began. Draco closed his eyes and looked for the right words. There were never right words when he was talking to Hermione Granger. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Granger. You are so busy with your books and with your helping everyone around you and you don’t… you don’t care about yourself enough”

“I _care_ ” she began, but Draco shut her up.

“I mean it. You are so broken and you don’t see it. It’s time you do something about yourself” he repeated, and she shivered in his grip.

“You helped everyone out so that I would have more time to myself” she murmured.

“Basically”

“Why?” she smiled. Draco shook his head. Was she really smiling at him, or was it a sarcastic smile? He was so confused.

“Don’t make me do the speech again, Granger” he murmured, their heads still too close. He wasn’t going to last long until he just crashed into her. He was fighting all his nerves in order not to. But Granger was the brightest witch of a whole generation and she knew everything, of course she knew. So when Draco finally couldn’t resist it anymore, her lips were already partially open to meet his.

 

* * *

 

Kissing Malfoy was fine. It was awesome, to be honest. Kissing him when she was sober was even more satisfying. She could feel every nerve of her body twirling up in ecstasy and every inch of her exposed skin burn where he would kiss it. Her neck, her ears, her hands. He was so freaking gentle Hermione swore she could feel it down her stomach, curling up in anticipation. But she kissed him back, fiercely and determined, as if she was possessed by a _Love Potion_ and she smiled at his surprised gasp before he caught her legs and raised her above the floor, her legs around her waist and her back against the wall. It was amazing and it felt so good Hermione doubted she’d ever felt so happy and relaxed. His teeth captured her bottom lip and she moaned silently, his face grinning at the sound of it. She just tugged his hair and continued with that battle of teeth, tongues and smiles until they both needed a bit of air. Hermione still had her forehead pressed against his, his hands still under her legs, lifting her up and holding her against the wall. He had his eyes closed and Hermione wondered if she’d ever noticed how beautiful he was, his lines of expression, his blond eyebrows and his almost invisible lashes, his skin tone, too fair to even put up with a bit of sun. She smiled and bit her bottom lip without even noticing, before he opened his eyes and looked, actually looked at her, his eyes maybe a shade darker that what they used to be. Hermione felt herself hold her breath before his mouth was again on hers, hot and demanding.

It looked like it’d been hours but Hermione could be there for days, if needed, her body against Malfoy’s and her mouth on his neck, as he hugged her tightly against his chest, no space in between them.

“I shouldn’t be doing this” he managed to say as she worked her way up his ear, slightly biting his earlobe. He swore under his breath, containing a loud moan and Hermione smiled against his neck, her arms down his back. She stood still for a moment before lifting her head to meet his eyes.

“Probably” she whispered, and he kissed her nose, cupping her head in his hands. They were cold as ice and Hermione shivered.

“I am death serious, Granger”

“You already left once, it’s already a habit” she blurted out, not being able to control her feelings or her mouth. Stupid mouth of hers. He stiffened and closed the space between them. Hermione wanted to fight, she wanted to show how hurt she was for him backing up days ago when she did the first movement. She wanted him to know she was mad. But his lips tasted so good, he was so good with his mouth her mind went blank. When they pulled apart, he was frowning.

“I didn’t take it further because you were drunk as Hell, Granger. I’ve wanted you since… Merlin, I don’t even know” he said, his tone harsh and low and _pissed._ “That night you were mad and drunk and I would never take advantage…” he began, his face red, and Hermione tilted her head before kissing him softly, his mouth still talking. He kissed her back briefly before continuing. “I’m serious, Granger, I would never do something you didn’t agree with and you weren’t in a proper situation to make such a decision…”

“I’m not drunk anymore” she whispered. “But I am still mad you’re trying to fix me”

“I’m not going to stop anytime soon” he murmured back, and she raised an eyebrow. “Kissing you is the best feeling of the world but I don’t mind sacrificing it because you’ll be angry at me for dragging you onto those sessions at St. Mungo” he said, and she swore she could see the magic of the moment disappear. Hermione shook her head and lowered her gaze,

“I am terrified” she murmured, and he just held her closer, his chin on her head. “The time I’ll be spending there, maybe for nothing. What if nothing helps and my legs hurt my whole life?”

“They’re wizards, Granger. They do miracles, that’s the whole point” he snorted, and Hermione smiled against the fabric of his tunic. “Look, it won’t be nice, but you need it to be yourself again. You can’t hide behind sleeping draughts and alcohol forever”

“It’s working for you”

“I was not tortured by a crazy-ass bitch for hours” he replied, and she lifter her hand to touch his forearm over his sleeves, just above the place where she knew he hid the Mark. He shivered at the contact. “Touché, Granger”

“Show me” she demanded. She wasn’t ready to see it, but she needed to. And when she actually looked at the Mark, faded and hardly visible, she noticed the cut scars above it, maybe dozens of it, all of them with a purpose. Her heart fell to her feet and she felt her eyes tear up, but Malfoy lowered his sleeve and shook his head. They looked at each other for several seconds before Hermione broke the contact and sniffled silently.

“Please” he then said, and she felt a knot in her stomach. Was she ready to face rehab and maybe not achieving anything? She could not admit a failure, she could just not face it alone and she certainly wasn’t a fan of the pain.

He felt his head lower and his lips meet her cheek, but she was frozen, her mind rushing to conclusions. What was she going to do? When Malfoy stopped, is lips millimetres away from hers, she looked up and met his gaze, a doubtful smile on her face.

“Come with me” she blurted out against his lips. He opened his eyes and blinked twice.

“I’m sorry?”

“Come with me. To rehab. I don’t want anyone else there” she murmured, her face suddenly red. She felt her embarrassment going through and she bit her lip. She was so stupid, that was a terrible idea. However, she felt his lips against his, once, twice, three times, and she smiled against his mouth, as he managed to laugh, loud and beautiful.

“It was a stupid question” she said, but he shook his head, still smiling. Hermione could see his smile forever.

“Of course I’ll go. I just didn’t think you’d ask”

“Well, you’ve been really irritating” she pointed out, and he kissed her again. She didn’t know where that was coming, but she was sure as Hell she wanted, in fact, to try.

 

* * *

 

 

Rehab was Hell. Draco was not the one going through laborious spells and medications and he was not the one who was forced to walk until his legs were sore. He wasn’t the one crying after every session, even though they never lasted more than two hours, but it still was Hell.

It had been nearly two months of him and Granger going to the Hospital (McGonagall had offered them her Fireplace to floo there) but Draco felt like it’d been ages. It didn’t help the fact being an Eighth Year student took most of his time and he could barely even get out of the library. But there was nothing compared to flooing to St. Mungo’s every two days and having to listen to Granger’s literal screams of pain.

Weasley had offered to go instead of him several times and he would have accepted if it wasn’t because of the fact _she_ had asked him. Not Weasley, not Potter. Him. He had to be there for her.

The only positive thing about it was the fact he was going with Granger. And it was amazing. Being with her was like being in the middle of a storm and suddenly feeling the Sun above him. It was precious and it hurt like hell to see her cry day after day, but it was worth it. It had to be worth it.

“I just can’t understand why we are given these assignments that are damn useless” he heard her complain. He just smiled. He was sitting at the edge of one of the Slytherin’s Common Room’s couches, Granger’s feet on his lap, reading one of those stupid History books Flitch had ordered them to. He was distractedly rubbing Granger’s legs with one hand, humming in response to her complain.

“I mean, what’s the point? It’s almost April. We should be preparing for out NEWTs” she continued barking, and Draco lifted his head from the book. She was furiously writing onto a paper, using her knees as support. Her hair was twisted in a messy bun. Well, all of her was messy. Her jumper, wait, _his jumper_ , with its sleeves folded up showing a wrinkled shirt underneath it, not to mention her bitten nails.

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“Wait, what?”. She just smiled at him and continued writing her paper, as he pulled her by the waist to have her closer to him, her thighs on his lap and his hand on her back. Draco felt her getting confortable against his chest and smiled at the feeling.

“You’ve been very quiet” she whispered on his neck.

“I am not”

“Draco… You are thinking about something” she murmured. He looked down at her.

“My father’s trial has been this morning” Draco then admitted and he got the reaction he expected from Granger. She slowly got up, her mouth open.

“What…?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” she yelled. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal. He will be having trials all year-long. It’s that kind of sentence, they seem to discover new crimes whenever they investigate a bit further in his life”

“And you’re okay with his sentence getting longer?”

“He’s going to be locked for life, Granger” he just replied. “I already know what an awful human he is, and if I don’t remember clearly enough, the _Prophet_ won’t doubt in reminding me tomorrow with his face all over the news and his surname, my surname, next to the word _Criminal_ ” he snapped, bitterly, and she softened her expression.

“So that’s what worries you”

“I’m his son, of course it bothers me to be reminded of who I was, who my father is, whenever I say my name. I was expecting…” he admitted. “I was hoping they would just lock him and forget about him, but apparently they still want to torture me Merlin knows how long for” he said, looking at the flames.

He felt her weight on him as she sat on his knees, her arms around his shoulder.

“You’re not him”

“I know that”

“People will realize that too, eventually” she whispered.

“I know” he muttered. He knew. It was her that worried him. He didn’t want her to be disqualified when she got out of Hogwarts because of a relationship with him. That was the last thing he wanted.

“You’re thinking too loudly” she pointed out, and he smiled against her neck, kissing it softly. He felt her shiver under his touched and smiled, kissing her jaw, her ear, the back of her neck, the sensible point where he could sense her pulse. It was slight, little touches, but they had the effect he wanted. He lifted his head to see her eyes closed, her perfect mouth in a perfect O, and went back to work on her skin, her hands caressing her hips, her thighs, the point of her lower back that was just so freaking receptive.

She moaned out loud and Draco suddenly realized it was 6 in the afternoon and there were actual children in that place. She thought the same, as she got up and kicked him slightly on the shoulder, before taking all of her stuff and putting it in her school bag.

“I should go” she said. He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t have to” Draco replied, and she smiled in his mouth, as he slowly kissed her, taking his time savouring every inch of her lips.

“I don’t want to” she murmured. He leaned forward, then, kissing her like Draco wanted to for the rest of his life. She was still broken, mending herself piece by piece, and her nightmares still followed her every night. However, he was there. He never got tired of being woken up by her and having to rush to her dorms to hold her until she finally closed her eyes.

He didn’t mind her screaming at him after each session, blaming him for the pain and then apologizing. But he loved her and he hadn’t told her because Draco was just too afraid of her reaction. And he loved being the one helping her come back to life after all the trauma, all the stress, all the pain. They were healing each other and they might be lost but they were enough.

_They were enough._

He looked at her as she pulled his jumper above her head and unbuttoned her shirt. She was radiant. The scars were slightly fading off her harms, her chest, light lines on her dark skin that glowed with the light. He touched the _mudblood_ one of her forearm and pressed small kissed onto the sensible skin. Her hands were dry and hadn’t seen body cream in ages, her nails bitten, he noticed, as he kissed each of her short fingers. He pulled her closer to him. Even sitting down and her standing up, his head was as high as her chest. He lowered her head and pressed a kiss on her abdomen, that made her shiver, as his hands caressed both her legs, his fingers playing with the waistband of her knickers. They were awful, a horrendous pomegranate shade that made him cringe.

“I’m sorry” she muttered, a wide smile on her face. He just blurted out a laugh and kissed her pelvis again. She was a mess, she still smelled like ink and cinnamon and hospital. He laughed as he kissed her waist, her belly, her collarbone and her shoulder. Draco felt so full when he had her in his arms he couldn’t express how lucky he was she had accepted him. She snorted and kissed his jaw, his chest, the Dark Mark on his forearm, before looking at him and smirking at him. Her pupils were huge and Draco could just drown in her eyes forever. He kissed her again, slow and exciting and hot and messy. He loved her. He loved how she was still getting up every day and putting up with all the whispers behind her back. He loved how she studied and he loved how focused and fierce she was. He loved everything about her but he loved her mess above everything. Draco had never found such a beautiful, disastrous girl, with so many perks and so many demons. She was everything that he lacked and she was everything he ever loathed, but also everything Draco ever loved.

And above everything, _she was radiant._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! I hope you liked this last chapter.  
> I thught of continuing the story with Hermione's rehab process and their ups and downs, because, let's face it, these two argue a lot, but I ended up leavint it like that <3
> 
> The titles of the chapters are basically titles of two songs I really love, both of them from Eurovision 2016. (Yep, I'm european, and yep, I love Eurovision)  
> If you want to listen to them, here they are! They kind of inspired me to write this story
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos! They mean the world to me <3
> 
> I stand: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L2imZRo6NY  
> Made of stars: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpWKfcjXcp0


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